#and I will make gifs for them until the end of my days

[cobaltperun]

Heyyy! I'm hoping I still got the time to request something!

Lorraine Day x Fem!Reader

Lorraine lives after the "accident" (did not get that headshot...) just has a scar on her face, don't know which side. R also survives and her and Lorraine gets closer, then they became an item.

R always caresses or gives kisses to Lorraine's scar/scars on her face, so she knows she's still that beautiful young lady as before.

I just want a fluffy, romantic one shot with my baby😭😭

Feel free to ignore this! Have a nice day/night!

Sunset

Lorraine Day x female Reader (Request)

Masterlist

Word count: 1.5k

You never should have agreed to this, you should have been happy working at a local store, away from all of these crazy ideas of movies that would make your life easy. Instead of that now you were trying to stop the bleeding from your left arm from the crazy old man trying to chop it off with an axe. And you needed the damn keys so you could get the hell out of here.

So, though it hurt as hell, you managed to get back into the house through the window and felt relief when you saw Lorraine and Maxine, relatively fine inside as well.

"Y/N! We need to find the keys!" Maxine told you as soon as she realized it was you and not one of the crazy duo.

"No shit," you looked through the drawers, desperately trying to find what you needed. "Lorraine, could you check these drawers to the side?" you asked, only now realizing the girl was on the verge of a panic attack.

"No! This is all your fault! I never should have listened to you!" she screamed at Maxine and you couldn't help but agree somewhat, though you figured most of the blame still fell on the crazy old people. But then Lorraine went toward the door and you just went after her.

"Wait, Lorraine!" you managed to grab her just as she came to the stairs and pulled her back. The resounding bang of the shotgun being fired deafened you for a moment and you expected pain, but you just felt the girl whose arm you were holding slumping back against you. "Shit!" you cursed, pulling her inside despite the amount of blood you saw on her face as the bullets just narrowly missed you.

~X~

That was three weeks ago and the entire ordeal after that felt like a blur, you somewhat remembered getting back into the house and trying to hide with Lorraine, and then being called just once by Maxine that she would leave if you don't get your ass out in fifteen seconds, and then dropping you off at the hospital, probably because you threatened her, and then you never heard from her again.

You came out of the ordeal fine, just the nasty scar on your left biceps and overall less strength in your left arm. Lorraine though… She lost a finger on her right hand and the right side of her face was scarred. It could have been worse, she could have gotten her face shot off, but instead you managed to pull her back just in time to prevent her death.

The damage was already done though, she was mostly blind in her right eye, and the scars were fairly prominent no matter how she tried to cover them with her hair.

The two of you ended up living in your house, left to you by your grandparents, but Lorraine hardly left the room, choosing instead to stay in the room you gave her. She barely spoke to you unless you spoke up first, she barely did anything and you could tell she wasn't doing well.

Not that you could blame her, given how she came the closest to death out of the three of you. You knocked on her doors and waited until she eventually told you to come in, you were carrying a tray with her dinner on it. Just some soup and mashed potatoes, since she was still struggling to chew, though doctors were sure her jaw would recover completely soon enough.

"Hey," you set the food down on the table next to her bed and sat down at the foot of the bed. "How are you feeling?"

Lorraine looked to the side, hiding the right side of her face from your eyes. "Like I should have died," she spoke honestly for the first time. "I thought I could be an actress, and look at me now, an ugly freak," you saw a tear sliding down her cheek as her voice shook.

You stood up, stepped closer to her and knelt down. Carefully you reached up, touching her right cheek. "Don't say that, please," you whispered, your heart breaking for the girl when she pulled away from you.

"You shouldn't have pulled me back," she sobbed and the two of you just sat there, in an old room, with wooden boards for floors and an almost antique furniture, and barely any sunlight coming through the window.

"Lorraine," you whispered, lowering your hand on her shoulder.

"You're still beautiful, you're still you," you felt like your words weren't reaching her, but she leaned in, perhaps just desperate for comfort and allowed you to hug and hold her.

“No, I should have never let you go alone, I should have gone with you,” you told her, and she just shook her head.

The two of you met that day, nothing, absolutely nothing that happened should have made you feel obligated to come with her.

“I know it’s difficult for you, I know you’re stuck in that place, replaying what happened all day long and then falling asleep to those same thoughts. I know that every time you look in the mirror you want to cry, but I’m here for you. And I won’t stop until you can once again see that you are still beautiful,” you promised her. It’s only been three weeks since you met, yet you figured surviving something like that brought you and Lorraine closer together.

“That’s not possible,” she sobbed, and you heard a small gasp when you cradled her scarred cheek.

“Maybe, but I won’t give up without even trying,” you weren’t sure where the boldness came from, but you leaned in and kissed her forehead, the right side of it.

“Y/N,” she spoke your name so softly you barely heard her, and she looked you in the eyes and saw nothing but affection and honesty. You didn’t find her scars ugly, or hideous, or anything that must have been going through her mind. You still saw the beautiful shy girl that stepped into the van that day, only now with the proof that she was a survivor on her face,

~X~

About half a year later you were resting on the porch and watching the sunset with Lorraine leaning on your left shoulder. You put an arm around her shoulders and kissed the top of her head.

"Y/N," she giggled and it was like a melody to your ears to hear her happy once more. Following the first time she opened up to you things became easier for both of you and now you could enjoy each other's company just like this, even if Lorraine remained self-conscious about her scars.

"Hmm?" you kissed her forehead, where the top of her highest scar was, then moved down and kissed just beneath her eyebrow, down next to her eye, on her cheekbone, several times on her cheeks and along her jaw.

"You'll miss the sunset," she sighed, but she ran her fingers through your hair and lifted her head up a bit to give you better access to her face.

You caressed her left cheek, pulling her a bit closer. "Mhm, there's someone much more beautiful right next to me," you whispered, and only then, only after she parted her lips, you softly pressed your lips against her own, enjoying how she immediately pulled you in closer and kissed you back.

"You flatter me," she smiled, and you felt like her smile was even brighter than the Sun at its brightest. She went through so much and still had it in her to smile like this.

"It's not my fault my girlfriend is worth every praise in the world," you told her as the sunlight faded away.

"Yeah, and we missed the sunset again," she complained, huffing jokingly and leaning against you once more. The truth was you've been missing the sunsets for the past month, ever since Lorraine first kissed you in this exact circumstances, while you were watching the sunset and you gently caressed her right cheek. It made Lorraine feel better, and you genuinely thought she was still beautiful, that she was still the same girl you met that day in the van.

"I can't help it, you're so kissable," you defended yourself.

"Is that even a word?" she chuckled.

"It is now," you said and she pulled you in for another kiss, this time a bit more heated as her tongue teased your lips.

"Yeah, I think that word works," she muttered as she just barely pulled away.

She was so damn beautiful, and she loved you back, and while you wished she never got hurt, while you wished so many people didn't get killed by lunatics, you were happy the two of you were together.

A/N: Well, anon, here you go, hopefully a short but mostly sweet and fluffy one-shot. Thank you for the request!

[fallenneziah]

Last day and I told myself if I didn't get something in I would die. So, here it is. @glitterypirateduck

Military Aviation Pilot Ghost x his unofficial official partner. Cw: Wearing his dog tags, dog tags tugging, Ghost in sweatpants, kitchen sex, make-up sex (of sorts), Ghost with a head injury, messy proposal talks, a little spat. Look, I saw a cool jet gif and my life changed.

A mile high in hopes.

Simon stood outside the runway, watching people walk around along the tarmac and wave signals to the watch towers around. It was getting late, the evening glow had set in and the wrap up for the day crew was soon.

He stood by the wall with his gear and flicked his cigarette ashes down into the ground and smearing them with his boot.

The phone rang several times before he picked up, pressing it to his ear with a little smirk when he heard your voice. "Well well,"

"You in the air yet?"

"I'm answerin' m'phone love. No, I'm not up yet." He looked back at the ground, furrowing his brow and digging the toe of his boot back into the cigarette smudge, lifting the last of the thing to his lips.

"You'll make it home earlier tonight, won't you?" You were currently curled up on the couch, waiting on some dumb re-runs that you weren't terribly interested in. Food cooked away in the slow cooker on the counter, the aroma filling your small apartment with warmth.

"Yeah, yeah I'll be home." He looked up as one of the crew workers came over to him and motioned his finger in a circle.

"Gotta go love, they're putting me up."

"Simon, a little longer."

"Love, I'll be home in an hour or two, just wait up for me, all right?"

You shifted in the blanket and slumped your head back against the couch. You sighed a little and finally relented. "Ok, but I'm not saving you dinner if you aren't home by the time I get to it."

Simon exhaled the last drag of his cigarette and smirked. "Deal." He stamped out the last of the smoke and ended the call. Shouting ensued across the grounds as Simon got his helmet and his mask.

The crew around him did laps of his jet and unhooked the wheels. Simon climbed in and set the windshield down over him. "Here we go, pretty girl." He rubbed the interior over, admiring the blinking lights and the gauges coming to life with light.

He looked down across the crew as the jet was rolled out of the hangar and positioned on the runway. He flicked the necessary switches and looked down at the others around him. Control tower coming in through his head gear.

"Takin' the missus to the mile high club, Riley?"

Simon chuckled, a twinkle sparking in his eye. "Already have."

He started up the engine with the all clear and eased the throttle. The wheels rolled and he strapped on his breathing mask. Before long he was catching speed and pulling the jet up into the air.

"There we go." He smiled, keeping his gaze focused on the sky in front of him until he had the jet leveled out. The air against his wings shredded in splitting white streaks as he set off.

Once he was relaxed he looked around and out at the vast world below. He chuckled deeply and eased on the speed just a tad more.

You sat there, sipping your water as you watched the only thing that was on this late, those dumb soap operas. At the least it was somewhat entertaining.

The street was filled with the golden light of Christmas as the two main characters found themselves outside of a large Christmas tree. "It's beautiful!" She exclaimed, joy written on her face and the breathless wonder of her first Christmas.

You watched intently as the man looked at her with love, before kneeling down and opening a small box. Your silence continues as you rubbed his bare ring finger with concentration.

"Julia.. my dear, sweet love," He gently took her hand. "Will you marry me??"

Her eyes widened, and in a panic she-

The commercial break blasted through the room and your stupor was broken to quickly grab the remote and turn it down.

"Fuck." You grumbled and rubbed your forehead. You pushed the blanket aside and headed to the kitchen to check the slow cooker. You sighed softly and stared through the steamy lid, and then the timer over the dial. Your gaze lingered into your hands, flexing your fingers slightly and examining your nails, then your knuckles.

Your hands came to your chest and you rubbed the finger quietly. You wished he would propose already, it had been years, and you couldn't understand the hold up.

You reached back and fiddled with the chain on your neck, pulling out his dog tags. He had served before, part of him had wanted to start out in the Marines but after a flight crash left him with head trauma, that wasn't as acceptable anymore.

The clock ticked by slowly while you waited. The commercial break finished and the woman in the soap opera embraced her boyfriend-now-fiance, giggling and smiling brightly.

By the time Simon got home it was late. Once again. You were half asleep on the couch in front of your half eaten plate of rice and chicken.

Simon slowly opened the door and closed it behind him. He took off his bike helmet and set it down on the shelf. Unzipping his boots and sliding out of them.

Your eyelids fluttered down briefly. You lifted your head and looked over to the door as Simon came in. "Simon..?"

He tilted his head as he stepped into the darkness of the living room. "Hey sweetheart." He leaned down and kissed your cheek before walking down the hallway. You sat up and checked your phone, seeing how late it was.

You frowned and pushed aside your food. You leaned against the door frame in the bedroom and watched him undress. He slid off his jacket and tugged his sweat soaked shirt off his body.

He flexed and grabbed out his sweatpants from the closet.

"You're home late." You said.

Simon shifted and looked back at you through the mirror. "I know love, I'm sorry. I tried to call."

You slid your phone from your pocket, checking the call history. "You're lying, Simon."

You walked into the room as Simon pulled off his belt, flicking the loop with one hand and flicking it, tugging the belt out from around his waist.

"M'not lying."

You felt yourself start to deflate. Mentally you were done with him. "When are you going to get your head out of the clouds?"

Simon sighed as he slipped into his sweatpants and scratched his stomach. "I'm on the ground, aren't I?"

"That isn't what I meant."

Simon passed you and headed to the kitchen. "Simon, would you look at me!"

"What." He paused and looked at you. "I'm looking at you. What do you want?"

"I want you to stop lying to me."

"I'm not lying, I just forgot ok??"

"You always fucking forget! You forget to come home, you forget to talk to me, you won't even marry me so maybe we can set some things straight!"

Simon was quiet for a moment. He sighed and leaned against the sink, staring at the wall.

"Y'know it's going to be the same answer every time.." He muttered.

"I know, but I don't like that answer. I want to be able to help you, I want to get you medication and take care of you until we're old, but you won't fucking marry me!"

"Maybe because I'm not ready-"

"Then when will you be!?"

"I don't know!" He snapped.

Silence befell both of you. You stepped back and rubbed your hands as Simon went for a glass of water and his medication.

After he took the pills he took a deep breath. "I'm sorry, ok? I'm just... I feel better when I'm up there."

You looked back up at him, your hands still nervously fidgeting. "So, you don't feel good, with me?"

"No, I'm not saying that. I'm not saying that at all. I love... You, I love hanging out with you. But I'm not in a good spot." He whispered a little.

"Then let me help you."

He swallowed thickly. "I can't..."

You shuffled over to him slowly. Simon watched you, his hand tightened on the edge of the sink. He leaned in closer, his other arm touching your hip. "M'gonna marry you.."

"You promise?"

He nodded, leaning down so his forehead touched yours. "I promise.. I'm gonna marry you." He rubbed his thumb against your hip.

You relaxed slightly and tilted your head up to capture his lips. Simon inhaled sharply and leaned toward you. Your hands wrapped around his neck and pulled him toward you.

"Make it up to me for coming home late."

He kissed you back and groaned softly into your mouth. He inhaled and slipped his tongue into your mouth, his hands roaming slowly to the hem of your shirt.

"I can do that..." He muttered through kisses. He back you up until you hit the counter. Your hands roamed across his neck, squeezing his pecs and groaning into the kisses.

Your tongues sloppily pressed together and tangled. He breathed in your scent and lifted your shirt up and tugged it up over your shoulders, breaking a trail of saliva to get it off.

You panted and kissed him again, your bodies colliding together and his hands moved back to unlatch your bra.

You groaned excitedly and leaned back to look into his eyes. "You know I love you?" He nodded breathlessly and ran his hand through your hair, tugging your head back gently and began to kiss your neck.

"Mmn, I love you too."

He grunted and tugged at your bottoms, yanking them down and leaving you in just your underwear.

"You're gorgeous.." He growled and leaned down, his tongue flicking out and licking over your collar bone.

You gasped and gripped his arms. You arched your back and ground into him, your hands roaming and grabbing at the muscles on his body.

He moaned softly and lifted you up onto the counter, spreading your legs apart and slipping his hands to the band of your underwear, slowly peeling them aside. You looked down, his forehead pressing against yours and his thumb pressed against your clit. You breathed out through your mouth and tangled your fingers in his hair. He hummed deeply and rubbing his thumb in firm circles over your clit while listening to your little gasps.

"Fuck…" He kissed your collar again and with his free hand he brought one of your breasts to his mouth. He swirled his tongue around the bud of your nipple and gave it a little tug. Fire sparked in your chest, the air in your lungs seemingly snatched from you before you could think.

Your hands squeezed his hair, and your hips jerked against his hand. He moaned and kissed the valley between your breasts. "Mm, good girl.." He murmured, and pulled his hand away to push down his sweatpants. His cock sprang free and he wrapped his arms around your thighs to pull you closer to the edge, and the tip of his cock brushed against your labia.

You panted softly and reached down, grasping the base of his cock and pushing him into your heat. "Oh- fuck." He groaned and his brows furrowed. "Wastin' no time…" He breathed out heavily and slid into your warm cunt. The thick warm walls contracted around his cock, welcoming him deeper. He stretched you out, his hand returning to your clit to continue pressure on it.

You gasped and rocked your hips, your legs wrapping around his waist. He panted and pressed his forehead against yours, starting a fast pace. His balls smacked against your ass, his tip bumped into your spongey core and your eyes rolled back into your head.

You cried out, the pleasure washing over you and gripping him closer. You never wanted to let him go. His smell washed over you and took you under like a massive wave you couldn't bring yourself to fight. It was like slowly drowning, losing everything so long as he had his arms around you.

"God.. oh god-" You moaned, his lips meeting yours for another kiss. "Simon.." You breathed, and he grunted, his hips thrust faster, his free hand reached up and wrapped around your throat. Your head tilted back and you gasped for air as his thumb and forefinger pressed into the columns under your jaw, making it harder to get oxygen. Your cunt started to drip soaking wet with each thrust. His cock sliding deep pelvis against pelvis, and the pull out. It barely gave your walls a moment before he was sliding back in at a forceful speed.

He watched the fluttering expression on your face and it made his stomach twist in the best way possible. His gaze zoned on your soft lips before gazing down at your cunt taking him so well.

"Simon-!" You choked. His hand shifted down your neck and wrapped the chain of his old dog tags around his knuckles to tug you closer.

"Mine." He groaned, and his thrusts got harder. The sound of wet squelches and skin against skin echoing in the apartment. Your legs tightened around his waist and you gasped as he hit your g-spot over and over. Your walls contracted around him and you let out a cry. Your back arched and you clenched up tightly, a rush of warmth flowing down from your belly.

"Fuck, fuck-!" You gasped and dug your nails into his back. Simon grimaced and tugged you closer. He pulled you off the counter and held you tightly in his arms, locking his arms around you.

You moaned loudly as you came. Feeling his body against you and his ragged breath against your face made your heart pound. He loved you. You shuddered and came hard on his cock, whining when he tugged you closer.

He fucked you through your orgasm, whispering sweet nothings against your ear. Your eyelids fluttered closed, and he kissed you roughly. Your tongue met his halfway. You panted against his lips, and his tongue licked yours, sucking on it.

His own orgasm was building, his balls tightening and his tip dripping precum. He held onto you, slowly shifting you along his cock until his grip relaxed, focused on kissing you. You desperately kissed him, inhaling his smell and chasing the butterflies that filled your stomach every time he gave your body attention. A feeling only his touch could reward you with.

Simon groaned against your mouth and slid his cock out of your cunt. You attempted to move away but Simon gently grabbed you again to keep you close. He caressed your hip and stroked his cock, cumming cross your abdomen.

You panted, looking up at him and then his hand working the last of his orgasm out. "Mm…" You leaned into his body, nuzzling his shoulder.

"Love you."

He panted softly and brushed some of your hair away to kiss your shoulder. "Love you too, sweetheart.."

He smiled tiredly, and looked around. "Let's go to bed."

He helped you and kissed the side of your face, walking to the bathroom to wash up. Using a warm wash cloth against your skin, and then following you to the bedroom. You both laid down and you curled up close to his chest. His arms wrapped around you and nuzzled the top of your head with a gentle kiss.

"I know I forget a lot now… But I promise that your needs and wants will not be."

That made tears start in your eyes. You curled up closer and squeezed him tightly. He smiled a little and rubbed your back. When he was ready, he would marry you. He didn't want to keep you waiting, he just needed some time, and the money. And he would make you Mrs. Riley.

[azrakaban]

Heyyy how are youu?

I saw your resquests are open and i wanted to ask:

Enemies to lover with the boys? Mattheo pretty please and reader being a hufflepuff?

Like the whole you meet and both hate each other from the start for years because reader is always in her own world reading caring for magical creatures but she isnt afraid to talk back to them when they're arguing (like calling them players or returning their insults) until one of them as a 'fuck it' moment and kisses the reader and confess their love?

Sorry that was long thank you for taking time to read and thank you if you do write it 🤭💋

I'm great my lovely! Having a good day? Did you drink and eat 2day? :)

actually fr giggled and blushed when making this tbh, have so many Hufflepuff friends so basing this off of them <3 Also totally happy to write for Mattheo hes so bbg !

Careful - Mattheo Riddle

Mattheo Riddle didn't like you. That was clear to anyone who saw you two interact, and honestly, there never seemed to be any kind of reason behind it.

The assumption was just basic house prejudice, but Mattheo was fine with other Hufflepuffs, so why were you so 'special'? You knew he had it in him to be nice, heck, you'd harboured a crush on him since third year, so why now had he decided to be an ass?

Maybe it was that you had a habit of tripping over certain uneven flagstones when reading, or accidentally smashing bottles in potions because you'd spotted a niffler. But you couldn't help being clumsy, right?

Everytime something like that happened, Mattheo would give a sigh and eye roll, which made you upset, naturally. It's not like you wanted to fall over!

As a result you would confront him and he would say the obvious. 'you're so uncoordinated it's almost painful to watch.' Well unfortunately for you, it actually was painful.

So you could imagine the reaction when Snape paired you for potions.

"Careful."

"Shut up, I am being."

A quiet sigh.

"CAREFUL!" He threw out a hand to steady a jar of frogspawn you had nearly knocked over. You glared at him.

"It wasn't my fault, it was in an awkward place..." You said quietly.

Mattheo rolled his eyes, with that same sigh. "I'm sure it was."

You rolled your eyes, mocking him. He raised an eyebrow.

"Mocking me? Real mature n/n." You mocked him again, and he copied you.

"Mr Riddle, Ms L/N, something you'd like to share?" Snape said acidly. You quickly stopped, shaking your heads.

"No sir."

Once he had turned away, Mattheo muttered to you. "Your fault."

You gasped, offended. "It was yours, whore!" You replied indignantly.

Mattheo scoffed, trying to continue work on the potion. You pushed him to the side, and he looked at you in shock for a second, before pushing you out the way.

You did the same, and it turned into a war, before you both pushed at the same time and ended up on the floor.

"L/N, Riddle, Detention." Snape said greasily. "And leave the class."

You both packed your things, flushing, and left.

"Your fault." He murmured, smirking.

"Honestly fuck you." You replied.

"Careful."

"Shut up."

"CAREFUL!"

You turned, glaring. "How about, until told otherwise, I'll be careful?"

Mattheo rolled his eyes. "Good idea."

You two were stuck in detention together, polishing trophies. Mattheo sniggered.

"You should get one for falling over, your face seems to have magnetic attraction to the floor." You bit back an exasperated scream.

"Look, I don't get why you hate me Mattheo, but just stop!"

"y/n-"

"No, no, just shut up! Can you just stop?"

"Y/N-"

"I don't like it when I fall over, it hurts, but you seem to be a sadist on some level-"

"Okay fuck it, I'm just going to shut you up."

Mattheo kissed you then, cupping your face in his hands, pulling back after a few seconds.

"I don't like it when you fall over either, you know, y/n." He said, rolling his eyes. "I can tell it hurts, so it irritates me that you're not more careful! You get hurt, Y/N, I see the bruises, and that hurts me too. Just... look out for yourself? For me?" He pleaded with you.

You froze, trying to process.

"Okay so... you don't hate me?" You said, confused.

"No actually, I kiss all the people I hate to shut them up. Oh look, here comes Potter, I'd better give him a snog. NO, Y/N, I DON'T HATE YOU." He laughed.

You giggled quietly, then smirked. "You like me." You said in a sing song voice.

Mattheo flushed slightly. "Do not." He grumbled.

"Youuuuu like meeee." You sang, giggling.

He kissed you again, effectively shutting you up as you kissed him back.

"You like me too though, y/n, let's not forget that." He smirked.

"You know you can't just kiss me every time you need me to be quiet." He laughed at that.

"Don't worry, I plan on kissing you a lot more than that. Though you do have quite a tendency to yap." He reminded you.

You poked your tongue out, moving back to the trophies to continue your detention, and nearly tripping over another wobbly flagstone.

"CAREFUL!"

Love and thanks for the request, hope this was what you were looking for, remember to eat and drink water <3

[iliketangerines]

HEYYYY!!!! I'm new to your blog and might say I love your work. Anyway, I was wondering if I could make a request for the Lin Kuei Brothers. This one is kind of dark but hear me out.

Okay so what if the Liu Kuei Brothers are obsessive over the reader and so they kidnap her and all that stuff. But then, after years of abuse, she snaps and somehow kills one of them (any one, feel free to pick) and it isn't pretty either, it's completely brutal and disturbing.

I'm sorry if this sounds crazy but I just had this random thought and was like "sure why not?".

all ours pt.2

a/n: my god the jet lag is hitting me

pairing: bi han, kuai liang, tomas vrbada x afab!reader

warnings: dead dove do not eat, some violence at the end, yandere behavior

you stare at the child in your arms, face blank as he latches onto your nipple, and you don’t feel anything for your own baby

perhaps in a time long ago you would’ve loved to have your own child, but all you can feel is an empty void of nothing as you stare down at your baby boy

beside you stands Bi Han, looking at his son with his cold eyes, and he mutters underneath his breath how his son will be a great grandmaster

you’re sure that Kuai Liang and Tomas will come by at some point to come and congratulate on yours and Bi Han’s child, but for now, it’s only Bi Han in the room with you and your son

he names the baby by himself, giving you no say in the matter, and a small tear falls down your face as you watch your son’s peaceful face

all your choices and will had been stripped from you, even your choice to name your own baby that you had kept for nine months and then birthed

but you stay silent, afraid of what Bi Han might say if you try to protest against his choice, so you just murmur that the name is beautiful before closing your eyes

you hope that you can fall asleep again soon to escape from this cruel world

when you wake up, your baby isn’t in your arms and a shock of panic rushes through you at the missing weight on your chest

if Bi Han found out you lost the baby, you were sure you would be spared no mercy, but then you spot Kuai Liang in the corner, holding the baby with one arm while his hand traced the sleeping baby’s features

it would be a scene of beautiful domesticity if it weren’t for the fact that Kuai Liang turns back to you, eying you up and down despite the exhaustion in your body

you hadn’t even fully healed and already Kuai Liang wanted his own child, and the assassin walks over to you and hands the baby back over to you, citing that a child needs time with their parent

he pets your hair, kissing your forehead, and says that you look beautiful as a parent

and then Kuai Liang says he can’t wait to be a parent as well, with you birthing him his own child, girl or boy he doesn’t care

you give him a small stiff nod before looking back at your child who opens his eyes blearily and gives a big yawn

it’s almost cute except all you can see in their brown eyes and black hair is Bi Han’s face and how your son will be trained and taught to be like his father

a feeling of anger brews in your stomach at that thought, your son will be raised to be just like his father, cruel and cold and evil

you bring your hand up to your son, and his own small hand lifts up to grab onto your finger, wrapping around it and cooing at you

and then you see it, a tenderness to his gaze and an innocence to the evil of the world, like you were all those months ago

you couldn’t let your son be like his father, you wouldn’t let Bi Han and Kuai Liang and Tomas make him like them

you would get out, even if you were killed, not only for your son but for you, to get closure on what happened in the outside world after your disappearance

for now, you would lay in wait and continue to be their obedient pet until you can get out

the days pass as you heal in your bed and thankfully, Kuai Ling doesn’t try to pull anything, just playing with your son every so often and cooing at him

Bi Han is stuck to your side like glue and making sure you’re confined to the bed to heal faster, and you feel like you’re starting to meld with the bed

Tomas doesn’t hold the baby, rather he just stares at you in wonder as you hold and breastfeed your baby

you spend the days with your son, feeding him, bouncing him, burping him, and anything that required you to stand up, Bi Han would force you to sit back down and would take care of it

as much as you hated it, Bi Han was an attentive father and partner, and Kuai Liang and Tomas were great uncles and partners that bent to almost every single one of your needs

but you didn’t dare to try and take advantage of their obsession with you, not until you watch Kuai Liang and Bi Han squabble over something trivial

Kuai Liang’s weapon hands dangerously low by his side, and you can see frost forming on Bi Han’s hand

you weren’t completely sure as to who Kuai Liang and Bi Han were, but you did know that they weren’t the best at communication and that Bi Han kept his secrets but not his anger

and so, you started to form your plan, listening and watching to the words that Bi Han would relay to Kuai Liang as you sat in the corner of their meetings, holding the baby and rocking him

you had to follow them around the entire time anyway, always needing to be in one of their sights especially after the birth of your son

mostly, you just attended their meeting and watched them train, never cooking or cleaning, and they left you as their partner and breeding whore

you previously hated how you had nothing to do before, but you gained a sudden appreciation for it as you noticed each nook and cranny of the compound

the exits and the connections of the winding pathways suddenly were a lot more interesting to you, and you had time to think about them

you started keeping a close eye on your surroundings as you followed one of the assassins around the compound, and your plan to escape started becoming clear

and you kept a close on Kuai Liang and Bi Han, the slight aggressions between the two of them and the minor disagreements

Tomas didn’t seem to side with either of them in a preferential way, so he was a loose nail waiting to ruin your plans

but you could deal with him later, and for now you focused your efforts on widening the divide between Kuai Liang and Bi Han

it started with some innocent small comments about nothing, trying to trick them all into thinking you had accepted your place as their partner in the Lin Kuei

and then slowly you started to plant seeds in Bi Han and Kuai Liang’s head, about how each of them wanted you all to themselves

in the meantime, you spent a lot of time with your son to try and get him to bond with you the most, and you were hesitant to hand him over to any of the assassins

they chalked it up to parental instincts, and you gladly took advantage of it to make sure your son spent the least amount of time possible with them

and finally, after almost a year of planting ideas in their head, the plan was almost at fruition, Tomas away on a solo mission and tensions high between Kuai Liang and Bi Han after finding out you were pregnant with Kuai Liang’s child

Bi Han had grown obsessive over you, needed to keep you all to himself, and he saw Kuai Liang’s child as a direct threat to his hold over you

and so, you sat at the entrance and made a passing comment to Bi Han about Kuai Liang while rubbing your stomach, and you saw something in his eyes shift

he stalks over to Kuai, ice in his hand sharp as he attacks his own brother, and you grab onto your son and pick him up into your arms as you watch them start to fight

they spittle insults and threats at each other, weapons drawn as they start to try to kill each other, and you take it as your cue to leave when you see blood spill onto the ground

you wind through the small backways where no one patrols, and you pick up the bag stuffed into one of the abandoned closets

finding one of the doorways, tucked behind some shrubbery and foliage, you shove open the door and crawl in with your son, willing him to be silent

it’s a quiet dirty crawl to freedom, the sound of your and your child’s breathing fills the tunnel as you make your way through

but finally, your hands bump into something hard, and you push and prod at it until you feel something give

you push and push and see the light of the outside world as you keep on going, and finally, fresh air floods the tunnel

you dig your way out desperately and start walking as briskly as you can away from the compound right behind you

it towers over you, large and imposing, but you were out and that was all you needed

you start walking, you cannot stop until you reach some sort of civilization, and so you start your trek to freedom

inside of the compound, Bi Han stands with blood dripping down his knife and Kuai Liang howling in pain on the ground

a scar stretches across his face, his eye now gone and spilling blood onto the stone floors

the grandmaster would kill his brother, hands twitching at the thought, and he looks to your spot to show you how he kills for you

and you’re not there anymore

[creedslove]

MAKING OUT WITH THE BRIDE'S FATHER - JOEL MILLER HEADCANONS ✨

No outbreak!Joel Miller x f!reader

A/N: the reason why I love Pedro so much is that he always makes me feel alive no matter how bad the situation is 💟

A/N #2: besties I'm so sorry about this Headcanon, I know it's sooooo bad, but I had the idea several weeks ago I think I don't really remember and I've been writing a little bit every day since but I went through a lot in a short time and I lost inspiration but at the same time it was really bothering me to see it lying in my drafts unfinished, I'm sorry it sucks, but I love you all 💕

• you met Sarah Miller when she was only a freshman girl, completely lost in her first day of college after she was dropped off and looking like a scared little deer even if she tried assuring you she was alright

• you were a few years older than her and you'd been there, so you pretended to believe she was alright but still offered her some help to get her dorm organized and simply find herself around campus; she quickly accepted it and that was how your friendship had started

• during the semester, you became one of Sarah's best friends; as you were always there to help her out, advise her or simply offer her some company or comfort the days she felt lonely and missed her family too much - you knew she didn't know her mom and she was raised by her dad and her uncle which you thought it was pretty awesome of them, but other than that, you didn't actually hear much about them, as you both often talked about other stuff

• and so the years passed and soon enough Sarah was graduating and marrying her college sweetheart, Ben, who'd been introduced to her by you during a party, so it was more than exciting to be invited to that beautiful party

• so you packed your bags, got yourself a decent place on Airbnb and went to Austin, to celebrate the wedding of your beloved friend, due to conflicting schedules, you could only get there a few days before the wedding, which ruined your plans of meeting Sarah's family, having dinner together and getting to the city, since the most you were able to do was just handle the last adjustment and details for your dress, help Sarah with the arrangements for the party and of course, party hard in her bachelorette party

• the bachelorette party was partially organized by you, as you never really knew how those things were supposed to go, other than just the scenes you saw in several movies, should you go to a male strip club? Should there be men half naked rubbing themselves against you and your friends? You weren't so sure, so you talked to Sarah and you picked a nice nightclub to dance and drink

• so you and your group of friends hit the club, all in your best clothes, nice heels and Sarah wearing a cute little party veil so everyone would know she was the bride to be. The night was perfect and you danced and drank as much as you wanted, knowing you could just call yourself a Uber to go home

• you stayed until the end of the party, your group of friends had all left home in different Uber rides and Sarah was picked up by Ben just some moments ago, so you grabbed your purse, paid for your part of your check and went to the parking lot, since your uber wouldn't take much to get there

• and that was when you saw him: easily the most handsome man you'd ever seen, older than you of course, tall, broad, brown hair salt and peppered and leaning against his truck. He seemed to be waiting for someone, but his attention was immediately shifted towards you, and he couldn't pay attention to anything else

• you just caught Joel's attention as you walked out of that bar; you didn't seem drunk or wasted, but definitely a little tipsy and while he wasn't a creep - Sarah had accidentally called him and asked him to pick her up and there was no way in the world he wouldn't come for his little girl, even if she wasn't little anymore and was going to be a married girl in a couple of days

• and even when she explained to her dad that she didn't mean to call him and he didn't need to pick her up because she was already going home with Ben - clearly drunk, which bothered Joel but he couldn't actually do anything about it - he said he was just going back to sleep, omitting the fact he was already at the parking lot waiting for her. She wasn't a child anymore, but he really missed when she was one because then, she would still be his sweet little Sarah wearing her cute star PJs to bed, and not exiting the club completely drunk like she did a while ago

• but all that whining went away in the blink of an eye once Joel spotted you, because he couldn't recall seeing a better looking woman at a bar in so fucking long, that or it was because he hadn't gotten laid in so long, his balls might've been blue but he wasn't just gonna empty them on the first woman he saw, so he just kept using his hand for it

• but you... He swallowed hard and decided to take a few steps towards you, after all, it wouldn't hurt just to make sure you were doing okay and no creeps were bothering you, because he wasn't a creep, he just wanted to make sure you were alright

• and when you saw Joel walking towards you, you felt your breath caught in your chest. He was so freaking handsome, big and manly, the kind of man to put you on all fours and fuck you while he whispers into your ear what a good girl for him you really are

• and you didn't remember much of your interaction with him, when you realized what you were doing, you were pressed against the hood of his truck, kissing him hungrily while his strong hands squeezed your body and roamed all over you; your hands messing up with his curls, tugging at them slightly as you moaned into his mouth, against better judgement you could let yourself be fucked by him at that moment

• however, you didn't even know his name, it was a dangerous game your body begged you to play, but your rational side was still too alert for it, so when you managed to see your Uber had arrived, you found strength in yourself to get rid of his intoxicating touch in your body and simply run to the car, you should've asked his name, but you didn't

• and the following days after that night at the bar, as much as you tried thinking of something else, all you could focus on, was that handsome man and the way he held you, he gripped your body and kissed you; it was different from any kind of touch you'd experienced, that mysterious man seemed addictive to you

• but as the wedding approached, your lustful thoughts had to be placed aside so you could focus on all the tasks you had to do: help Sarah get ready, check the venue for her and so on, not to mention getting ready yourself for the event, being so busy you totally skipped the part where you'd meet her family

• as you waited in church for her with the rest of your friends, you couldn't help but being extremely shocked to see Sarah walking down the aisle by her father, whom you had never actually seen before that night at the bar, but he happened to be your mysterious fling from the parking lot

• Joel also couldn't believe the hot girl he'd made out with was his daughter's best friend, he knew he was older than you even if you both hadn't much time to talk, but he didn't expect that

• you two had to stop those feelings aside so you could focus on the ceremony, but the way Joel kept glancing at you, made it pretty obvious you'd have a very interesting wedding reception afterwards 😉

____

[aklaustaleteller]

heyy how are you! i have this idea that wont leave my head, the reader is scared of love and runs away from it and keeps pushing anyone that tries anything away, but klaus does everything to prove to her that his intentions are pure, and after he does with a little while, she find out about him being a hybrid (maybe she gets really scared) and he has to grovel his way into her life

Mendable Inside Your Ribs

Y/n, all her life, had reached for love and then felt her white-knuckled dying grip on it slip. Then suddenly, Klaus comes in her life looking like the light at the end of the tunnel – and maybe, just maybe, their monsters have more in common than they originally thought.

Warnings - Mentions of animalistic urges, monstrosity, blood, wounds and bruises but it's all in a metamorphic manner (well, except for the blood) Word Count - 3.2k

Finally, Anon, I'm posting your request! I'm so sorry I took so long, but I truly hope that you find the wait worth it once you're done reading this! I could've written this in an entirely different and simpler manner, but I was already half-way through it already written it in a poetic/metamorphic way, so I hope you guys still enjoy it for I am quite proud <3 Please do tell me if you do!

Y/n, all her life, had reached for love and then felt her white-knuckled dying grip on it slip. So many times had it happened that now she was found sat with her hair tangled, dried blood and dirt on her face and inside her nails with crooked teeth, clawing at her own skin sitting in a corner, rocking herself back and forth to comfort herself as she saw love creeping towards her with a smile so sinister that it could make shivers run down the devil’s spine. 

From her parents shaming her for wanting something so simple as love, to her romantic partners who’d always stumble a couple steps back upon realising just how hungry she was for love – how animalistic she could get just for an ounce of it. 

All of it turned her into a person as cold as a tombstone standing over a dead person’s grave, unfeeling and unmoving.

But when she would feel, it felt like her own heart was pushing her head under the water, holding her in there until she had only one more breath left in her. It made her want to snarl and to hiss, to bite and to claw at the person who made her heart leap out of her chest. 

Which would then make her turn and run the other way as fast as her feet could carry her, back to the corner where she belonged. Sometimes she would raise her head and look at the walls inside of her, reading the numbers she had madly tally-marked on them to keep track of just how many days she had kept herself chained there. And somewhere along the passing time, she’d begun defeatedly losing count.

Yet as she sat in that very corner and raised her head this time, she saw something bright. Almost like a light at the end of the tunnel. So she’d gotten forward on her hands and moved on her knees, curiosity pulling her forward until she reached the border which she’d have to cross to get to the other side. 

And that’s when she saw him standing there – Klaus Mikaelson. Smiling down upon her like she was the cutest lamb he’d ever come across, instead of falling backwards because he actually saw the love-hungry animal that she was. 

So, she had taken it upon herself to back off, and ran away from him. But horror crept over her and held her tight when she saw that he had followed her back inside, back to her corner where she resided. 

“Love,” she heard him whisper as he brought his open hands in front of him, wanting her to place her own calloused ones in them and come with him. 

But she never did, always turning away with a growl so that he’d leave. But every time she’d look his way to check if he’d finally left, she’d find him still standing there, with that same smile and those same open arms. 

“Go away, Klaus,” she said coldly, looking away so her dead eyes wouldn’t have to witness hurt flash through his starry eyes. 

He wanted nothing more than for her to see herself the way he saw her. Wanted for her to know that he was the one who’s undeserving of her love, actually. He was the animal here, not her.

But she profusely denied all of his pleas and begs, holding herself strictly uptight so that she wouldn’t fall into pieces upon him and crush him under the weight of all her grief, anger and tragedy. 

He just couldn't seem to get through to her, no matter how hard he tried. So he just decided to remain persistent, and show her how truly pure his intentions are via small acts. Like buying her gifts that he knew would matter to her, such as those small plants that never grow, or random postcards that he knew she put up on her walls, or books that he’d annotated for her to get her to take a glimpse into the way he saw her.

But sometimes, those acts got rather intimate. Like that time he brushed her hair for her for a week long when she had broken her wrist, or that night when he took her feet in his lap to massage them gently after she’d given her best performance on stage. Hell he’d even gone as far as to cook for her on especially hard nights so that he could feed her his love. 

And maybe he was just growing delusional now, but he was beginning to feel like she was taking down her walls around him brick by brick. She no longer glared at him with those ice cold eyes when he would enter into a close proximity to her, nor did she sneer at him to go away. 

Instead, he saw her eyes grow a little wider when he’d enter the same room as her, the dead stare tucking itself away for other people as some life took a dive in her eyes. And he heard a lullaby in her voice when she’d greet him back, her body turned towards him and eyes on him to give him all of her attention.

That’s how he knew that he had brought her away from that corner and back to the very border, again. And he also knew that he now had to tread carefully so that she wouldn’t go back, tumbling away from him. 

And Klaus didn’t know if the Salvatore brothers telling her all about the supernatural world, about who The Klaus Mikaelson was, was his fault or not. 

But what he did blame himself for, was for lowering his guard when he’d brought her just one step away from crossing the border and loosened his grip on her because the moment she was told about his past, not only did she go fumbling back but she also left crescent moons dug in his shoulders from when she’d been shaking him, sobbing loudly and crying out for him to tell her that all of it wasn’t true.

But Klaus couldn’t lie to her, so he’d stood frozen with tears spilling from his eyes as she ran back to her corner, tally-marking another day after so long that her eyes had taken a moment to adjust to the darkness that surrounded her again, this time, more like an evilly laughing capturer instead of holding her in it’s arms like a pitiful mother. 

Y/n awoke this morning with her eyes puffed up, it happened every time she went to sleep exhausted out of her mind. And as the flashes of last night began reeling through her mind again, her eyes grew moist and her vision grew blurry while she climbed down the stairs to go into the kitchen. 

Grabbing a glass of water she chugged it down, leaning over the sink and mumbling to herself that everything was fine, that she was fine. Her eyes remained shut but tears slipped out regardless, sniffling sounds echoing through her house as she tried not to retain any of the information that had been dumped on her. 

“He’s a …hybrid,” Stefan had said, looking at her through his lashes like he was talking to a child about how tooth fairies aren’t real.  

“And what’s that?” She asked, a feeling in her gut telling her that it was, in no way, a sweet creature. 

“He’s half vampire, and half werewolf,” Damon finished saying behind her. 

Breath was knocked out of her lungs at that. She’d always had her suspicions about some certain people surrounding her, like Stefan and Damon themselves, but never once had she felt anything remotely scary when Klaus would stand in front of her. 

Perhaps it was because of his big starry eyes, and those unruly blonde curls that he kept trimmed for some reason. Or those dimples that would shy away from her gaze and that mouth which would always stretch into a smile upon her sight. Or, those hands that held her so gingerly, and those feet that held the weight of her body as he carried her home. 

And maybe it was the fact that he’d never once told her about this himself, that hurt the worse. He had lied to her, or kept the truth from her, dare she say to defend his honour. But it felt like a punch square in the chest when she learned about the blood that stained his hands, his clothes, his face and his mouth. 

Despite that horrifying revelation, she had run straight to his home and shouted at him to come outside. And the moment he had, she was pushing and shoving at him, putting her hands on his shoulders and shaking him, crying – “tell me they are lying! Tell me that you aren’t what they say you are, that you have no blood on your hands!” 

“Tell me!” She had broken down, resting her head on his chest as she let out the sobs. 

“Tell me this wasn’t your intention!” She shook him again and Klaus had opened his mouth to agree with her, but she had fallen to her knees then, looking up at him with tears staining her cheeks and blood swirling in her eyes. 

“Please don’t take me home,” she had told him despite the hot tears streaming down her face and fog settling in her mind. “I can never go home now,” she whispered, scared. 

Home was something that was supposed to be a constant in one's life, that one returned to every single day. And there hadn’t been anything like that for her until Klaus. And now that the shelter of his frame had been uprooted and thrown away, cold rain scraped at her skin all over again as she scrambled around to find her corner to go back to. 

She didn’t want that corner to be her home but time and time again, it was proven to her that it was – whether she liked that or not. 

Taking deep breaths to gather herself, Y/n went back up to her room to get ready for the day – knowing that all she was going to do was read and write and water her dying plants and maybe bake some biscuits that she was never going to get Klaus to taste now. 

And just as she came back to make her first cup of tea, she heard a hissing sound and turned to see a paper that had been folded into half. It had been slipped in through the crack underneath the door. 

She picked it up and opened it, immediately recognising Klaus’ handwriting. 

Y/n,

I know I’ve wounded you deeply by keeping who I truly am from you. But spending so much time with you, I’d somehow mistaken myself to be just the Klaus Mikaelson that you saw. I'm the one who’s wrong at that part, forgive me for it. I never meant to lie to you, perhaps, I was waiting for the right time. But it’s never the right time, is it? I’ve learned that now. 

And while I’m sure the brothers told you enough, I’d still like to introduce myself to you all over again. This time, by laying all my defences down. I should’ve said it then and there, but something came over me and I couldn’t form words. But I hope you’d believe me when I tell you that hurting you was not my intention – it’s something far far away from what I truly do intend. 

My family is hosting a traditional ball tonight. Please save this sick lover of yours a dance. And, you need not fret for I have brought you a dress, come outside? 

Yours truly,

Klaus

A deep weight rested itself on top of Y/n’s chest as she slowly walked towards her door, and opened it. She’d been expecting to see Klaus, but instead there was a box on her porch with a silk bow resting on top of it. She sat down and brought it to her lap, opening it to reveal a blue dress, folded neatly inside the box. 

She knew she was going – there was no doubt about that. But what did gnaw at her, was the chance of what would happen when she’d get there. She wanted to accept the feeling that told her he wouldn't hurt her. And yet, a tremor coursed through her body as she sat and sipped on her tea, waiting for the evening to roll around. 

She wanted for him to unleash himself and show her who he truly is, so that she can love him for him. She didn’t want to fall in love with just his bruised upper skin – no. She wanted to get to know him, inside and out. Wanted to know what his guts found intimidating and what his soul found peaceful. 

But if he wasn’t going to show her that, then nothing could ever make her clean herself up and rid herself of all the wounds that had been inflicted upon her, so that she doesn’t bleed on him from the cut that he didn’t inflict. She had a feelling that maybe, just maybe – there monsters had more in common than they thought they had. 

There must be a reason behind the blood tainting his skin, perhaps, it was thrust upon him for all she knew! Maybe he didn’t want to be the monster that he had been turned into. 

And if that’s true, Y/n wondered if she would still want to unravel him if it turned out that he was just a monster that had no other driving force apart from some personal fun. 

So she dressed herself up for the night. Prepared to listen to him and ask him questions if he wouldn’t have answered them already in his explanation. 

Entering the mansion that she always ran far away from, Y/n took a huge breath before wandering her eyes around to search for the one and only. And It didn’t take long before their eyes locked, with him already looking at her with rather guilty eyes and a relieved smile for she had shown up. 

Walking to her, Klaus took in a shaky breath as he fixed his suite. He was nervous, hell, scared even. Honestly, terrified that tonight might be the final time he would see her and the final memory he’d have of her would be of her sprinting away from him for she couldn’t bear the sight of the ugly monster he had ended up growing into. 

“You came,” Klaus smiled, looking at her with those same starry eyes except tonight they were shining because of the sheen layer of tears glossing them up. 

“You asked me to,” she shrugged faintly, her mouth cold to sight but her eyes were big and almost smiling up at him. 

With her hand still in his’ from when he had bent down to kiss the back of it, Klaus walked her over to the vacant balcony – nothing to witness the tragedy but the sky that had itself gotten dressed in its best constellations and ornament, the moon.

Klaus wanted to believe his heart when it told him that she would listen to him and try to love him, but his head’s juxtaposition was not gentle. It prepared him for the worst, reminding him of how no one had ever loved him before, and no one would now. For all that was true, he had only gotten worse over time. 

“To hurt you, was never my intention,” he whispered, his big eyes looking into hers. 

“It is true that I am a Hybrid – a vampire and a werewolf. It is also true that I’m covered in blood from head to toe, from my bones to my skin, I am drenched in it.”

His legs were growing jittery and breathing was becoming harder to do than it should be. But his hold on her hand only tightened, tears collecting on his bottom lash line. 

“It is true that I am a monster. One with a heart that doesn’t beat and a soul that feasts upon the love it never gets,” with his free hand, Klaus wiped the tear as it slipped down the slope of his cheek. 

She only stood still in front of him, urging him with her eyes to go on. Her own breathing ragged as she began seeing him and listening to him

“But I need you to know, before you leave tonight,” his voice shook as he stole his eyes from hers for a second to gain back his courage, as all of it had been spent the moment he mentioned her inevitable departure. “That I would never hurt you, I never can, hurt you,” he assured her, searching her eyes for anything. 

“I truly am in love with you. And I will take forever to show you that if that’s what you’ll ask of me,” bringing her hand to his chest, he rested it there. “I want you to lay yourself bare in front of me so that I can show you that even your ugliest is loved by me,” he whispered.

“Say something, please,” he almost cried, his voice cracked, not having anticipated her departure to come so soon. 

“I –,” Y/n began, her voice hoarse due to not having used it for so long. “I think I can love you, Klaus,” she uttered, looking away from his eyes, fearing that he was going to deny her heart upon realising just how ugly and bruised and beaten it is.

Upon the realisation that sure, her insides are a million colours – but they are all shades of blue. 

And when the deafening silence got too much for her to bear, she turned away from him to make a run back home. 

But her hand felt to have gotten caught in something and she was pulled right back, into a hard and vulnerable chest as her mouth felt something soft press itself hardly against it. 

Klaus’ mouth. 

His mouth was on hers and one of his hands was curled against the back of her neck while the other cradled her face with force. 

Everything inside of her erupted into flames as she tilted her face to better mould it against his’, and fisted the curls on the nape of his neck, pushing him further into her while bending her back to accept the force. 

“Say it again,” he breathed, breaking the kiss and resting his forehead on hers, his tears slipping from his eyes and falling onto her cheeks. 

“I think,” she exhaled sharply, trying to catch her breath while her eyes remained stuck on his mouth. “I think I can love you,” she confessed again, instantly moving her lips in sync with his’ as he kissed her desperately, finally. 

“My heart – it is shabby and broken but it’s already yours,” she choked out. “And it’s only mendable inside your ribs,” her shoulders shook as she cried, now fisting the shirt of his collar to keep him close to her. 

“My love, your heart – it, it is safe with me,” he breathed with her, trying to calm his racing heart down. “And my heart will forever beat on your command,” sniffling, he tucked her hair behind her ear, gently lifting her face to seal his confession by breathing in her breath and letting her take away his’ as he pressed his mouth against hers, once again. 

[maximoffcarter]

I've got you.

Pairings: Casey Novak x reader.

Summary: Casey Novak's past definitely changed something in her, changed so many aspects of her life, there were so many things she thought she'd never be able to do again, like love someone or be loved. But that changed completely when she met the very clingy and lovely y/n.

A/n: This was requested by an anon, they requested some prompts and I tried to use them as best as I could; "The hugs that have you tugging them closer and closer to you that now both of you have trouble breathing and then pulling away laughing", "Snuggling up to you while wearing your hoodie that they look so cute in". I hope I did this right, because I feel like this is not exactly good, but here it is, some cute Casey fluff🥹 And I promise that more Calex, more Alex, and more Casey are coming soon. I'll try to finish the requests I have, and hopefully there will be more to come. Hope you guys enjoy this, leave comments, hearts, whatever you like and reblog so this gets some love🫶🏻

*not my gif*

Throughout her whole life, Casey Novak was the type of girl that was energetic, her mother would say she was full of life. She was the kind of kid that loved hugging people, loved to make people smile and laugh, she had always been a happy kid. Growing up, she hasn’t changed much, she was still pretty much full of happiness and life, even if there were a lot of things going on, she still tried to keep that cheery energy she always had. That was until she started questioning so many things in her life, and then by college, she met Charlie. Things seemed to be alright, she had met someone that loved her and that accepted her for who she was; at least, that’s what she thought the first few months. She sometimes hated to admit that she was a clingy person, but she just wanted to show her partner love, but he pushed her away, he told her it was exhausting how energetic and cheery she was, and that’s when Casey started changing completely.

After Charlie, Casey didn’t really believe in love, she didn’t really trust many people, she never felt like opening up to them, showing that side of her that she had loved. She focused more on getting where she had dreamt of, and then focus on her job. And that’s how it went for a while. Joining Sex Crimes had brought so many memories back, she really didn’t think how hard the job would be until she had her first few cases. She tried to act tough, she tried for the cases not to get to her, even if after getting home, she’d do nothing more than cry. It was hard. But it was her job. And then, she met y/n.

It had been a random day, Casey was not even supposed to be having lunch at that time, but her arraignment had ended before time and so she decided to take the opportunity to get some lunch. Her card had declined, and she had forgotten to carry cash, but an angel had showed up that day and was kind enough to pay for Casey’s lunch. And that’s how it all started. After almost two months of coffee dates, lunch dates, dinner dates, etc., they finally made it official, which, it was a true surprise for Casey, because she never really expected that she’d be this happy again; no…she never expected she could actually be this happy, because this was like nothing else she ever knew. This was entirely a new feeling, which scared her the most, but partly, she was willing to try this, even if at the end…this could end bad.

It had been a few months since they both had made it official, they both couldn’t be happier with their relationship, already having their routines, seeing each other every possible chance, even the squad noticed Casey’s change, which…made them happy to see her happy, though it wasn’t confirmed, they had an idea of what was going on. Casey had been working throughout the whole day, arraignment after arraignment, she had a trial, and then paperwork, so all day long, she had been busy. The last thing she had expected was for her girlfriend to show up at work. She had been distracted with paperwork that she didn’t notice her girlfriend leaning over the doorframe, smiling as she stared at Casey. She then knocked on the door and her smile widened as Casey looked up at her.

“You’re here.” Casey smiled as she dropped her pen and stood up.

Y/n chuckled softly as she walked inside the office. “Of course I did. I saw your text, and I was sure that you wouldn’t eat dinner and just stay here.” She smiled softly as she placed the bag of food on the table and then walked to Casey, wrapping her arms around Casey’s waist.

Casey chuckled softly as she wrapped her arms around her neck and kissed her forehead. “And you had to be my knight in shining armor.”

“Always.” Y/n smiled as she pecked her lips and then hugged her tightly, burying her face in Casey’s neck.

Years ago, Casey would have been the one to give a hug like this, one where she tightly wrapped her arms around them, but she couldn’t even remember the last time she had hugged someone like this. The first time y/n hugged her like that, she had felt a bit odd about it and had felt bad about it, but she didn’t tell y/n. But the more y/n, the more Casey got used to it…the more she loved those hugs. Y/n squeezed, making Casey ‘dramatically’ gasp and they slowly pulled away, Casey’s arms slipping from her neck to be replaced by her hands, laughing as she leaned her forehead against y/n’s.

Casey pecked her lips softly and then smiled. “I’m glad you’re here. You’re…staying, right?” She looked into her eyes, a hint of hope in her own.

Y/n’s smile widened. “You really thought I’d leave you here alone? I brought my own work with me, need to grade some tests.”

Casey’s heart warmed at her words, her own smile widening. “Good, let’s eat first and then we get to work.”

Y/n nodded. “Sounds great to me.”

********************

It was Casey’s turn to do dinner tonight, it was their second week in their new apartment. Casey would be lying if she said she was not afraid at first of taking this big step in their relationship, the last time she had been in this situation, she had felt like she had lost part of herself. But after all, she had been the one suggesting this, because she had pictured herself living with y/n, waking up next to her, being breakfast to bed and just enjoying their free days together. No planning on ‘today at yours, tomorrow at mine’, it was now ‘I’ll see you home’. Casey was finishing up dinner when she felt arms wrapping around her, making her chuckle softly.

“You should be in bed, I’m almost done with dinner.” Casey smiled as she looked at her over her shoulder.

Y/n sighed as she rested her chin on Casey’s shoulder. “But I’ve slept enough. C’mon, Case. I’m feeling better. It was just the flu shot.”

“And yet, you got the flu.” Casey chuckled softly as she turned in y/n’s arms. “Are you sure you’re feeling better?”

Y/n nodded. “Yeah…just…missing you in bed.” She smiled softly.

Casey chuckled as she leaned down and kissed her forehead. “You’re adorable, you know?” She then wrapped her arms around y/n’s waist and hugged her tightly, burying her face in the crook of her neck.

“C-Case! Can’t breathe!” Y/n laughed softly as she wrapped her arms around Casey’s neck.

“Oops?” Casey laughed softly as she pulled away enough to look down at y/n, smiling softly. “Get back in bed and I’ll bring dinner?”

“Dinner will be…you?” Y/n grinned.

“Nice try, you still look tired day, baby. But…” Casey pecked her lips softly. “…maybe tomorrow, when you feel better.”

Y/n chuckled. “How come you get to take care of me, but I can never take care of you?” She raised her brow as she stared at Casey.

Casey sighed. “Because I don’t need to be taken care of. I’m a big girl.” She smirked.

“Oh, and I’m not?”

“You’re my baby.” Casey said softly as she leaned down to kiss her lips softly. Before she gave it a second thought, she picked up y/n in bridal style, laughing again as y/n squealed and wrapped her arms around her neck.

“Casey! Put me down!” Y/n laughed softly.

“Nope, taking you back to bed so we can have dinner and watch movies.”

Casey had talked about it with y/n before, she liked to take care of her girlfriend, she liked to be the person that she needed, the person she looked for, and now that they were living together, Casey got to do all that and more, and she loved how happy y/n was. And she was happy too, she was the happiest she has ever been, but…she was still afraid to open up, she was still afraid to show that side of her where she needed someone, where she wanted nothing but being wrapped around their arms. It was frustrating, because she enjoyed when y/n showered her with love, when she was being clingy, when she wanted nothing more than have Casey hugging her or cuddling her, but then she overthought about it, and she thought that soon enough all of that would end, once Casey opened up more, y/n would leave.

********************

It was finals season, so Casey knew that y/n would be extra busy, which resulted in Casey hiding the fact that she had been feeling sick the last two days. She woke up pretty early in the morning to leave, and come back home pretty late so y/n wouldn’t notice this. She now sat at her desk, her hands buried in her hair and her eyes closed as she tried to ignore the agonizing headache. She groaned softly as she heard a knock on the door, looking up to find Olivia walking into the office.

“Case…are you okay?” Olivia asked softly as she furrowed her brows.

“I uh…yeah. I’m perfectly fine.” Casey nodded. “You need something?”

Olivia tilted her head as she smiled. “You’re sick, aren’t you?”

Casey sighed as she rubbed her face. “Stress and weather didn’t exactly agree.”

“Yeah, well, is that time of the year.” Olivia chuckled. “Why don’t you go home?”

“Because…I’m fine.” Casey shrugged as she grabbed her pen and tried to go back to her paperwork.

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re stubborn?” Olivia grinned.

Casey looked back at Olivia, grinning softly. “Just a couple of times.”

“Why don’t you go home?”

Casey sighed softly. “My girlfriend will find out that I’m sick.”

Olivia raised her brows. “And…that’s a problem…why?”

“I don’t want her to worry.”

“She’s your girlfriend. She should worry, and-“

“I don’t want to be a burden to her, I…I become…annoying when I’m sick. I just…” Casey sighed. “I don’t know. It’s a lot.”

“Charlie. Right?” Olivia sat down in one of the chairs as she stared at Casey.

Casey looked up at Olivia as she nibbled on her lip. “Yeah.”

Olivia nodded. “For what you’ve told me about your girlfriend, she really does love you, Casey. And you know what I think? That she’d do anything for you, just like you’d do anything for her. And you showing that you need her…that’s not gonna change the way she thinks about you. I think she’ll be happy that you need her.”

Casey stared at her for a moment, her eyes getting watery as she nodded. “I used to be a person who would love to hug people, you know? Who would…who would be such a cheery and happy person. And I love making y/n smile and laugh. God, she looks so beautiful when she’s smiling.” She huffed a chuckle. “And I’m afraid that if I’m clingier…she’ll just…I don’t know…”

“She’ll love it. Because she loves you for you.”

Casey smiled softly as she tried to hold back her tears. “So, you don’t need anything from me?”

Olivia shook her head. “Go home and call your girlfriend.”

Casey didn’t take long before she chose to listen to Olivia. She grabbed all of her stuff and before she left, she headed to Elizabeth’s office to let her know she was leaving. Once she got home, she sighed heavily as she felt odd, this was not like her but in reality, she really did feel bad. She texted y/n and went ahead to change into comfortable clothes. She thought about making some tea and taking some pills to feel better, but as she took her time to do her normal routine after work, she heard the door opening and closing, making her walk out of their room confused as to how fast y/n had come home.

“Y/n? I texted you like…20 min ago.”

Y/n nodded. “And you thought I’d just ignore your text and come until later? Case, why didn’t you tell me you were sick?” She said softly as she put her stuff away, taking her shoes off before walking to Casey, placing her hand carefully on her forehead. “God, you’re burning up, Case.”

Casey chuckled softly. “It’s not as bad as it looks.”

Y/n tilted her head as she smiled a little. “Oh, here comes stubborn Novak.”

Casey gasped as she smiled a little. “What are you talking about?”

“You’re gonna say you’re fine, that you just need to sleep, and then you won’t let me do anything for you.” Y/n raised her brow as she grinned.

Casey stared at her and sighed softly, her hands going to y/n’s waist to pull her closer. “You’re right. But…I do need you.”

Y/n’s face softened as she stared at Casey, a smile appearing on her face. “You do?”

Casey nodded as she smiled. She leaned down as she tugged y/n closer, burying her face in the crook of her neck. Suddenly, she felt emotional and once again, her eyes started watering. Y/n furrowed her brows as she wrapped her arms around Casey, cradling her head and running her fingers through her hair. She suddenly felt Casey’s body trembling and that’s when she understood. Y/n sighed softly as she held Casey, holding her tighter and kissing her head.

“Talk to me?” Y/n whispered softly.

“I-I need you. And I’m…I was…I was afraid if I told you…you’d see the mess I was. I didn’t want you to figure out that…that what I went through had caused me so much pain and trauma.” Casey sniffled, her voice cracking with every word. “But I need you. And I want to open up to you. And right now…right now I feel so bad. I feel…my whole body hurts badly.”

Y/n’s heart broke; Casey had cried in front of her before, she had been a little vulnerable, but not like this. Never like this. “Baby…nothing could ever make me change the way I see you or think about you. I love you. So much.” She kissed her head again and sighed softly.

Casey pulled away enough to look at her, tears rolling down her cheeks. “You mean it?”

Y/n smiled. “You know…when you think I’m sleeping…I can feel you pulling me closer to you. And at times, you do it unconsciously.” She huffed a chuckle as she wiped her tears. “I know I’ve seen most of you, maybe not all of it but…I want to. I want to know Casey. The good and the bad. Whatever you have to give…I want it.”

Casey smiled through her tears. “Even if I’m clingier than you?”

Y/n chuckled. “Oh, we gonna have competition now?”

Casey shrugged. “Maybe so.” She smiled softly.

“Then be it, Novak. You win in court, I win here.” Y/n chuckled softly as she leaned in and pecked her lips softly. “So…will you let me take care of you?”

Casey smiled as she nodded. “Please? I’m…so tired. I just want to lay in bed and cuddle you.”

Y/n smiled, running her hand through Casey’s hair. “Then let’s go to bed. But, let me get the thermometer first and some medicine.”

Casey nodded. “Sure.”

Y/n kissed the tip of her nose and was about to move to the kitchen but before she did, she grabbed Casey’s hand and stopped her from walking away, furrowing her brows. “You’re…are you wearing my hoodie?” She smiled softly.

Casey looked down at the hoodie and then up at y/n, smiling shyly. “You mind?”

Y/n’s smile widened, and she shook her head, leaning in and kissing her dimple. “Not at all. You look beautiful in it. I love seeing you in it.”

Casey smiled and then walked back to their bedroom. Once y/n got everything she needed, she walked to their room and checked on Casey before she laid in bed with her. Y/n knew there was so much they had to talk about, but right now, right in this moment, she just wanted to hold Casey. The way Casey had wrapped her arms around her middle, buried her face in her neck, tightening her arms around her every now and then…y/n could get used to this. She wanted this forever, she loved Casey so much that she’d do anything for her. She was ready to love Casey.

[formulawolff]

iv. raising the stakes - t.w.

pairing: female driver! x toto wolff

word count: 2.0k

warnings: cursing, age gap, mentions of divorce, power imbalances, mentions of age gap relationships, sexual references, toto wanting to be with you every second of every day, YEARNING, pining, yadayadayada, the works y'know

prev. | next.

“don’t tell me it’s that fucking nitwit.”

the team principal nearly growls, fury oozing into every single word. 

“i haven’t talked to him in a while,” panic starts to flare up, “fuck, fuck, fuck. what do i do?”

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“ignore him?” 

“i can’t do that,” you suck in a breath, “you need to go to my room. just sit on my bed or something until he leaves.”

“scared he’s going to catch on or something?” toto arches a brow, his tone shifting from scorn to a light-hearted tease, “oh schatz, are you worried your little boyfriend won’t like that you’re with another man?”

“no,” you scoff, “you know exactly what would happen if daniel saw both of us. go to my room. stay there until he leaves.”

“fine,” he rolls his eyes, clambering to his feet. he stretches slightly, wincing, “that was not my best idea.”

“that’s what happens when you’re an old man.”

the remark lights a new fire in toto, the austrian licking his lips, “oh don’t worry love, this old man will you show you soon he’s actually–”

“get. in. my. room.” you hiss, scrambling to your feet. 

“fine, fine,” he exhales, nodding towards the end of the hall, “i assume that’s it?”

“yes,” you affirm, “just stay there. answer some emails or something.”

“will do,” he whistles, turning on his heel. 

once the door to your room closes, you clear your throat. your voice was probably shaky from what just occurred. hell, even your brain felt like it was a pile of mush. 

there was not a single thought rattling around, your memory only replaying a constant loop of what just happened. 

oh fuck. you realize your shorts were completely soaked. and it was noticeable. although you weren’t going to be opening your legs, you were obviously flustered. 

time to act like nothing ever happened. 

quickly, you throw a blanket over you, “come in!”

daniel pokes his head in, a bright grin enveloping his face, “hey there, winner, winner!”

“how are you?” 

“i’m okay,” he shrugs, crossing over to the couch, “were you watching something? i thought i heard some voices.”

“oh yeah,” you nod fervently, “i was just watching some tik toks before you came in.”

“sorry it’s so late,” daniel fiddles with a loose thread on his shorts, “i figured i would come by after all the press and all that. you must be tired, yeah?”

“a little bit.

“it was a huge day for you,” he points out, “i’m happy for you. i really am. i couldn’t think of anyone who deserved that win more than you.”

you can’t help but feel a grin form, “thank you, danny.”

“also,” he lets out a shaky breath, “i feel like i owe you an explanation why i’ve been so distant this last week.”

“oh daniel you don’t have to–”

“but i do,” he interjects, his voice so quiet you had to lean forward to hear it, “i guess when you asked me that question after bahrain, i was confused. to tell you the truth, i was confused about how my feelings for you. i guess i never really addressed the feelings i had for you until you brought it up. yeah, i do have feelings for you. i am attracted to you. but i can’t act on them because i know that you would never pursue me in that matter. you’ve always seen me as one of your best friends, and that’s okay. i figured i would take a step back so i could heal without hurting you or lashing out. because it’s not your fault, it’s all been one-sided.”

“daniel i–”

“you don’t have to say anything,” he shakes his head, avoiding eye contact, “i had to heal on my own. i had to come to terms without bringing you into it. it would have been immature of me to make you feel like you had to reciprocate the attraction. besides, i feel like you’re attracted to someone else.”

your heart nearly stops beating for a moment, eyes widening, “oh – um, i–”

“you’ve always spoke so highly of carlos, and with the way you look at him, i have a gut feeling you like him.”

you can clearly picture toto in your room, leaning against the door, listening to every word. this meant you had to tread these waters carefully. 

very carefully. 

“oh daniel,” you begin, “at the moment, i’m not attracted to anyone on the grid. if anything, i see most of you guys like my brothers. it’s the best group of friends i could have ever asked for. if i were to have romantic relationships with any of you guys, i feel like it would diminish the bonds we have. also, i just don’t think it’s very professional. we have to keep things professional, you know?”

“i understand,” daniel’s eyes meet yours, and you can’t help but see nothing but anguish, “i appreciate you, i really do. can we just act like you never asked that question?”

“of course.”

“i love you,” daniel leans forward, scooping you in an embrace, “you’re the best. i’d stay and chat about your big win today, but i bet we’re both exhausted. i’ll text you, okay?”

“okay,” a giggle bubbles up as daniel shakes you back and forth, “i love you too, danny.”

“i’ll see ya around,” he places a swift peck on your temple before getting up, “sleep well. you deserve some rest.”

“you too,” you murmur, waving as the australian strolls out, “see you around.”

“byeeee!”

once the door shuts, you flop backwards, breathing out a sigh of relief. 

that seemed to go well. 

shooting up, you remember that there was a very large, very handsome austrian man waiting for you in your room. wrapping the blanket around your shoulders, you spring up, nearly jogging down the hall. 

pushing open the door, your breath hitches in your throat. 

instead of being wide awake, toto is slumped on your bed, limbs sprawled out. light snores fill the air, his chest rising and falling. rays of moonlight cascade into the space, shrouding him with a soft glow. 

quietly, you make your way to the bed, discarding your shorts and underwear. after seeing the clothes on the floor, you realize you may as well ditch the top too. peeling it off, you toss it, burrowing under the comforter. 

toto stirs, blinking, “how long was i– oh my god.”

you can’t help but smirk as he’s left speechless, mouth agape, eyes nearly as wide as saucers, “not long. daniel only came over for about fifteen minutes.”

“and you didn’t wake me the moment you started taking off your clothes?”

“i didn’t know i was supposed to,” you tease, scooting towards the principal, “you don’t have to leave. you can stay.”

“i don’t know if i should,” light kisses pepper your nose, cheeks, and forehead, “they’re probably all wondering where i ran off to. i’ve been gone awhile and haven’t been answering my texts or calls. if i’m not careful, they might send out a search party.”

“lewis hamilton can’t be without his team principal for one second?” 

at your response, toto laughs, his chest vibrating against your shoulder blades, “you’d be surprised. at times i wonder if i adopted him as my own. george too.”

“please?” you roll over, facing him. for extra measure, you jut your bottom lip out, ensuring that your lashes flutter as you blink, “please stay?”

“hmmm,” he hums, leaning in, “what’s my incentive for staying?”

“you know, not everything is a business transaction.”

“i just wanted to hear you beg a little.”

the truth of the matter was that the team principal knew if he stayed, he would be in too deep. even further deeper than he already was. 

oh, toto wolff was already weak for you. 

but now? 

it was far worse than he could ever imagine. 

there was just something about you that he couldn’t shake. as you laid beside him, moonlight swathing your figure, he couldn’t resist admiring. fuck, you were just so gorgeous. 

however, that was not the only thing that drew him in. your aura alone was attractive enough. confident, radiant, oh so intelligent, and level-headed. also, you were unapologetically yourself. toto needed that. he needed someone to match his energy. 

the fact that you were one of the best drivers on the grid was just a bonus to the plethora of qualities that he adored. 

of course, there was that ever-present thought looming in his mind. 

if a single soul found out about this blossoming relationship, every aspect of his life would come crumbling down. 

his children would shun him. he would be let go from his esteemed position at mercedes. the fia would exploit his wrongs in every way imaginable. the media would have an absolute frenzy. his drivers would no longer speak to him. 

and susie? oh god. 

although there was still a band gleaming on his left finger, the marriage with susie had devolved three years ago. the papers weren’t signed until several months ago, the team principal keeping that matter private. merely for the sake of his ex-wife and children. wearing the band was simply a promise he made with susie for the time being, to keep the public thinking that they were still happily married. 

the divorce would be announced at the end of the 2024 season, just so that the media wouldn’t speculate. 

although, they already speculated more than he liked. 

yet, there was this part of him that urged him to take that risk. to pursue you. to get to know every part of you. to learn, cherish, and love you in every way possible. 

you were his golden girl, without a doubt. 

a shining ray of light that deserved the world. 

and by god, he was more than determined to give you that.

“toto,” your eyes were closed, lashes fluttering as a hand ran through your hair, “can you please stay?”

“if i stay,” the team principal shifted his body, propping himself up with an elbow, “i’m going to have to leave early. probably before sunrise so that i’m not spotted.”

“you could just disguise yourself.”

“right,” a light chuckle flows his lips, “i’ll find a mustache and stick it on. no one would ever dare recognize me then.”

“you think?” fuck, your giggle was going to be the death of him. 

“i know,” leaning over, he presses a kiss on your temple, “i’ll stay, schatz. just don’t be disappointed if you wake up and i’m not there. all right?”

“all right,” you nod, sleep slurring your words. 

quickly, toto unbuttons his shirt, discarding it to the floor. fuck, it was probably going to be wrinkly in the morning, but he didn’t care. as long as he got to spend a few more hours with you, it would make up for it. standing, he unbuckles his belt, slacks falling to the floor. 

pulling the comforter back, he curls up next to you, bringing you close to his chest. 

“you know, sixteen-year-old me would be screaming, crying, throwing up, right now.”

“is that right?” his chest rumbles as he laughs, “well, we’ll have create a time machine to let sixteen-year-old you that all of her dreams come true.”

“are you sure you don’t have a crush on me, mr. wolff?”

“like i said before schatz,” his arms squeeze you gently, “crushes are for children.”

“then what is it?”

“we’ll have to find out,” toto found his eyelids drooping as you snuggle closer, “goodnight, golden girl.”

in his heart, toto knew the answer all too well. 

if the two of you continued to meet like this, one of you would be bound to want a relationship. with such a bright future ahead for you, would you even want to settle down at mercedes with a man like him? a previously divorced man going through a potential midlife crisis? 

additionally, if the two of you continued to meet like this, one of you would be bound to fall in love. 

and if that was the case, the stakes would only be higher. 

not only would be acquiring one of the best drivers in formula one’s history, he would be acquiring the girl he loved. 

and god, was he determined to make that happen. 

by any means possible. 

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taglist: @toldyouitwasamelodrama

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[dr-spencer-reids-queen]

It's A Wonderful World

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Princess!Reader

Word Count: ~1.2k

Warnings: fluff, ominous ending

Summary: You didn't think you'd meet someone like Spencer while staying in America, and you can't seem to stay away from him. No one, not even your uncle, can keep you from him no matter how dangerous it might be for you.

Play Pretend Masterlist

Square Filled: magic for @acrosstheuniversebingo (deleted bingo)

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

x

Like with anything in life, if you keep at it, you’ll excel. Except for this. You never had to work a day in your life but you are willing to try. Making coffee for people is a lot harder than people make it seem. You’re good at reading people and learning by what they’re doing but this is on a whole other level.

It’s only your second day so there is still room for improvement, but it’s like you’re working with no training. Cindy gave you proper training yesterday so you’ve been tasked to making drinks rather than stocking items. Spencer walks into the shop at the same time as yesterday, and he smiles when he sees you.

“Still having trouble?” Spencer asks after putting his order in.

“It’s obvious, huh?” you chuckle. You grab his cup and look at the cashier’s handwriting. You get to work on making his drink as best as you can. Spencer tries to help where he can which you appreciate. You’re trying not to look like someone who has never seen the inside of a coffee shop before but it’s hard when this is all so new for you. “So, where is there to get good food? I’m new to town and I don’t want to be stuck eating this food.”

“Huh?”

You look at your coworker who has a confused look on her face.

“No offense.”

“Why don’t I pick you up on my lunch break? I can show you a good place to eat.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, why not?”

“Okay, that would be great,” you smile.

Spencer grabs his drink when it’s ready and leaves the coffee shop. The next few hours go by quickly because you’re so busy trying to learn all that you can. When Spencer walks into the coffee shop around lunch time, you look at the clock in shock.

“Is it that time already?”

“Yeah,” he chuckles.

“Cindy, I’m taking my lunch break. Is that okay?”

“Yeah, hon, that’s fine. You get an hour.”

“Thank you!”

You go to the back and take off your apron before grabbing your purse. Spencer waits patiently for you by the door and smiles when you join his side. There is no need to drive anywhere since The Coffee Shop is located in the strip where there are shops and restaurants all within walking distance of each other. Spencer takes you to one of the fast food places called The Charred Grill that serves brugers, hot dogs, and good old American comfort food.

As soon as you walk in, Spencer walks to the end of the line, but you keep walking toward the kitchen. Before you can cross the threshold into the kitchen, Spencer quickly pulls you back.

“What are you doing?”

“What?  Isn’t the kitchen where food is normlally made?”

“Yeah, but… Have you never been inside the restaurant?”

“Oh, God,” you chuckle and cover your face in embarrassment. “I did it again, didn’t I? I have never been in a place like this before.”

“It’s okay,” Spencer chuckles. “Let’s get in line.”

You two move to the back of the line and wait patiently until it’s your turn to order. You have never had this type of food before since the family chef always made five-course meals. None of them have ever been hot dogs and burgers. You’re not sure what to order and Spencer sees the uncertainty in your eyes. Thankfully, he orders for you, and the two of you take a seat to wait for the food to be ready.

“So, you know what I do for work. What do you do?” you ask and cross your legs.

“I’m in the FBI. The BAU to get technical. I’m a profiler.”

“Wow, that’s amazing. I bet you see all kinds of things.”

“That’s one way to put it,” he chuckles.

“Have you lived in Virginia all your life?”

“No, I’m from Las Vegas. I moved here when I was sixteen after my college graduation.”

You’re not familiar with the American school system at all, but you know that college isn’t meant for teenagers.

“College at sixteen? What are you, some kind of genius?”

“Yes, actually,” he laughs. “I have an IQ of 187, can read twenty thousand words per minute, and I have three PhDs and two Bachelors.”

“I’m impressed.”

“Thank you. What about you? Where did you move from?”

You freeze at his question because you aren’t expecting it. The only place in the United States you know of is Los Angeles and New York. You didn't really have much time to study the place before you came here.

“Oh, you know. Around,” you chuckle nervously. “I don’t like to talk about it.”

“I get it.”

Once the food is ready, Spencer grabs it from the counter and returns to the table. The food looks greasy and delicious, and you can’t wait to try it all. Spencer got you their classic cheeseburger and an All-American hot dog with fries.

“Where are the utensils?” you ask.

“What do you mean?”

“You expect me to eat this with my hands?”

“Have you never had a cheeseburger before?”

Shit, you really need to do research when you get home. This is so fucking embarrassing. Plus, he’s an FBI profiler. He’ll see right through you if you keep acting like this, and you would have ruined this before you two could ever get to know each other.

“No, sorry.”

“Don’t be ashamed. Here, grab it like this.” You copy his movements and grab the burger with both hands. He takes a bite out of the side of it, and you do exactly what he did. “There you go.”

Flavors explode inside your mouth, flavors you’ve never experienced before.

“This is delicious,” you mumble with your mouth full. You grab a napkin and cover your mouth until you’re done chewing. After swallowing, you dab the napkin on your face. “It’s magical. I’ve never had anything like this before.”

“I’m glad you like it.”

You only get an hour and the waiting around took half that time. After lunch is over, Spencer walks you back to The Coffee Shop. You need to get back to work and he needs to return to the BAU.

“Well, that was one of the weirdest dates I’ve been on.” You look at him with confusion. “A good weird.”

“This was a date?”

“Only if you want it to be.”

“Then I guess it’s a date,” you smile.

Spencer shoves his hands in his pockets.

“Can I see you again?”

“Yes. You know where to find me. I’d give you my phone number but I don’t have a phone.” You think of an excuse as to why you don’t. “It broke and I’m trying to get a new one.”

“That’s fine. It’ll give me an excuse to come visit you. Plus, I like hanging out more than texting anyway.”

“Okay,” you smile.

Spencer leaves and you finish the rest of your shift quickly. When you get home later that night, Don is waiting for you in the kitchen with a glass of whiskey in his hands.

“I saw you with that boy today.”

“It’s nothing, Don,” you sigh. “He doesn’t know anything.”

“Good.” He downs the alcohol and stands up. “It’s going to stay that way. The more people know about you, the sooner they’ll find you.”

Fear pricks the back of your mind. You can’t go home. You can’t marry Henry because you don’t love him.

“I have it under control.”

“You better. You don’t want me getting involved.”

x

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[corinthianism]

DON'T THEY KNOW? (IT'S THE END OF THE WORLD) || BENEDICT BRIDGERTON (1)

pairing: benedict bridgerton/fem!reader additional tags: zombie apocalypse au, graphic depictions of gore/violence, fluff, angst, biology stuff i just made up so it's probs super inaccurate lol, slow burn, friends to lovers summary: ravaged by a relentless virus, the world as you knew it falls into ruin. survivors are hardened by the blood on their hands and the horrors in their minds. amidst the end of everything, benedict proves that there is still hope, and perhaps something more, for the two of you. word count: 6.4k

author's note: welcome to the first part of my new zombie au series with our boy benedict! for those who don't know, this is based entirely on the fic "i'll be seeing you" by @eleanor-bradstreet! thanks again to them for letting me vomit up this fic based on their incredible one <333 anyway, this chapter is mostly exposition, so most of the benedict/you romance will really start in the succeeding parts. hopefully, you find this chapter interesting enough to stick around! (+for readers of my dean winchester series, don't worry! chapter 3 will come out soon!)

masterlist | series masterlist | ao3 | next chapter

CHAPTER ONE: HERE, IN THE END

The world had been so loud before.

The droning noise of traffic. Of the intermingling of a thousand phone calls, nestled in between cheeks and shoulders. Of people talking at each other, screaming over each other, fighting to get the final say in even the tiniest little thing. Everything blurred together into one great ocean of sound. You could drown in it, especially in the big cities.

You were right in the middle of it all: a drifter. It took a while but eventually, that ocean of sound became your home. You struggled to recall what it was like before that. That too, was blurry now along with everything else from Before. All you had now were fading fragments of a dream to be someone. Anyone.

That was how you met him, just before the beginning of the end. You still weren’t convinced that Benedict Bridgerton wasn’t some kind of romance novel character come to life; a talented artist from a long line of English nobility, and the first friend you ever made in New York. It was like something out of a crappy Hallmark movie. He laughed at your reaction upon learning that his brother was an actual viscount and that Benedict himself technically should be referred to as “the Honourable Benedict Bridgerton”, but despite all the grandeur that came with his heritage, Benedict was still… Benedict. In time, he became just Ben. He’d paint while you ranted about your borderline dangerous work hours or how your parents were bugging you to settle down. In turn, he shared with you his frustrations as an artist trying to make it in the world, without his family name, and how at the same time he missed his mother’s cooking. Conversations with him were always lovely, like breathing in the air in the middle of a field of flowers after a decade of being locked inside a dark, stuffy room. He was just like you. Just trying to be someone.

But those conversations all seemed so far away now. If you had known then what would become of your life, of those dreams to be someone, maybe you would’ve just let yourself drown in that ocean of sound. 

It only took two weeks for the world to fall into ruin. Only fourteen days for everything to go up in flames. 

The virus was ruthless. The most efficient killer the likes of which no one had ever seen. A terrifying force of nature seemingly tailored for the extinction of humanity. You were right in the middle of it all. You saw it with your own eyes, a cluster of people beginning to form in Times Square. With New York being New York, you thought nothing of it. You walked away none the wiser.

Until you heard someone scream, a gut-wrenching, visceral scream, followed by a sound you would never forget. A sound you’d have to hear over and over again for the better part of the next ten years, though you didn’t know it yet at the time: teeth ripping flesh from bone and the primal snarls accompanying it that couldn’t have been anything except inhuman. Monstrous, even. It sent ripples into the great big ocean you called home, altering it so permanently just seconds before you even realized what was happening. 

Sound, quickly followed by sight. 

The people huddled on the outer edges of the crowd ran off in terror, revealing the gruesome remains of what used to be a person. Even that was something you barely registered at first, eyes too focused on the bloody mouths feasting on it and white, foggy eyes. One of those things stopped its chewing, head snapping up suddenly. It sniffed the air for a while, as if sensing your fear even from twenty feet away. Those white eyes were looking at you now. Staring you down. Seconds later, the corpse being eaten started writhing back to life, or a perverted version of it. Its jaw was skewed, perpetually stuck wide open as drool and blood ran down its chin. You weren’t someone then. If your body hadn’t gone into autopilot, legs taking you as far away as they could, you would’ve been one of them. That was the very first day of what would be the longest two weeks of your life. You remembered it well.

There was no time to think or breathe. Even when your chest hurt from overexerting yourself and your lungs screamed for a break, you ran. You ran as fast as you could, crashing into people, some of which were still unaware of the horrors spreading just a block away from them. In the corner of your eyes, you knew that there were others like you, scrambling to go home, to go anywhere but here. Cars stopped in the middle of the road, curiosity killing the cat as drivers left their vehicles to see what was going on, only to be met with the same sight you were: death. In only a few minutes, nearly a third of the people on the streets were running, too. 

A little girl cried in her father’s arms, a teddy bear left behind and forgotten on the cement road as they also tried to get away. The realization dawning on the faces of onlookers that they should be doing the same. 

You reached your apartment building, not really knowing what you would do next, just that you needed to get away. The hallways were empty. A part of you hoped Ben was far, far away from here. A more selfish part of you hoped otherwise.

Supplies. You needed supplies. Food, clothes, water. Emergency kit, tools, weapons. Weapons. You had no fucking idea what to do with any of this! Just yesterday, you held a steady, if not miserable, office job. Today, you had to survive against whatever-the-hell those things were and perhaps even other people. The weight of that sudden realization twisted your guts in a sickening way, enough to make you almost throw up.

Peeking through your blinds, there were already three or four ambulances rushing to the direction of Times Square.Those things were not here yet and still, you naively hoped that help would come and dispatch of them before it got out of control. 

You barely noticed the sweat that began to trickle down your forehead and back, hairs raising out of instinct. Your whole body was going into overdrive, hyper-aware of the fact that you were in danger. 

The rapid knocking on your door nearly frightened you to death, until you heard Ben’s desperate calls of your name. Out of breath and scared… much like you. You wondered if he had seen it, too. When you confirmed through the peephole that it was, in fact, him, you dragged him inside your apartment. Your hands were on his face as soon as he was inside, needing to know that he was here, he was with you, he was alive. It seemed he had the same need, icy blue eyes taking you in with such an intensity you’d only ever seen when he was painting. It was easy to feel small under his gaze.

“Are you alright?” he breathed heavily, larger hands covering your own. 

You could only nod, the words stuck in your throat, “Did you- did you see-”

“I saw them,” he said, his composure faltering for a split second. “I saw them.”

You could hear more sirens outside, one after another, disrupting the ocean you had grown so familiar with. Louder and louder. 

“We need to leave, get out of New York,” he ran a hand through his hair, eyes moving wildly as he tried to come up with a plan. It was the Bridgerton in him: the bravery of his father, the gentleness of his mother. It didn’t need to be said out loud that the moment he saw those things, all he could think of was you. Getting to you and getting you safe. His only true friend in this city. It took all of fifteen minutes before you were out the door, nearly overwhelmed by the swarm of people all running away from Times Square. Ben held your hand tightly, and you did your best not to look behind you.

The sun was beginning to set, wrapping the city in a bright orange light. It felt ominous somehow, so unlike every other time you’d seen it. Like this was some form of judgment. As if at any moment, you’d hear the seven trumpets telling you that this was the end. You learned later on that you weren’t the only one that thought that. Bile threatened to rise in your throat when the shadows of night grew with each passing second. It felt like it was going to swallow you alive.

The road was packed full of people, crying and yelling and praying for salvation. Ants begging to get away from the magnifying glass only to be burned anyway.

The screams grew louder and against your better judgment, you looked back. You were too far away to see everything clearly, and because Ben was constantly pulling you forward, but you could make out the smaller swarm of walking corpses slowly coming into view. The poor souls who weren’t able to keep up with the main crowd were dragged away to be bitten, spreading the godforsaken disease. More and more bodies littered the streets, staining the concrete with the blood of dozens. Then, not even a minute later, they would rise with jaws gnashing and wide white eyes, their humanity lost forever.

Your legs felt so heavy, as did the rest of you. If it weren’t for Ben’s ferocious determination to get out of the city and to keep the both of you safe, you wouldn’t have survived that first day at all. Helicopters flew above and across the city, the whooshing of its blades mingling with the screams. The ocean of sound was threatening to drown you. You didn’t look up anymore. It would’ve shattered you if you had, because you knew there weren’t nearly enough choppers to save everyone in the city. It was impossible. Your heart broke for all the people, all the someones, who were dead long before they could even fight for the chance to live.

The sky was dark now.

By some miracle, you reached the army’s barricade. Soldiers ushered people to safety, including you and Ben. You squeezed his hand, causing him to look at you for a moment. A temporary reprieve from that day’s horrors. His fair skin was shiny with sweat, his hair sticking to his forehead like black tendrils. It was like everything slowed down, but maybe it was all just in your head. His chest rose and fell, rose and fell, rose and fell. The moment was cut short when you heard an explosion from behind you. Your head snapped to the direction of the noise, so did Ben’s, and the “small swarm” of the undead from before had multiplied to thrice its size in the short few minutes you spent running away. 

Gunfire rang in your ears once the monsters got a little too close for the army’s liking, but the crowds of the living and the undead had already begun to mix by that point. Bullets meant to pierce rotting flesh ended up killing people who were very much alive and uninfected. You could only watch, from behind the barricade of soldiers, the people in the perpetually moving crowd who would stop once they realized their loved ones were no longer beside them. You could only watch when the body of a child (belonging to the same little girl you saw earlier that day, you realized grimly) was forcefully torn from the arms of her father when a soldier spotted the bite mark on her leg, bleeding and angry. Her plump, tear-stained cheeks that were once symbols of her youth and innocence were ruined by a sickly green that rose to the surface, emphasizing violet veins that always looked like it was crawling, spreading just underneath the skin. Then, she was one of them. Writhing, bones cracking. There was no recognition in her cloudy eyes when her father begged for his baby girl to come back to him. 

Ben held you tighter, his hand cradling your head as the other soldiers evacuated as many people as they could.

“We need to go,” he pleaded, still firmly holding on to you as you were both pushed around by the crowd. “Please, love, just look at me.”

So you did. Those eyes, brilliant and blue and full of worry, were the only things that pulled you back down to Earth. Tears were shed and prayers were whispered on the chopper that whisked you away from New York. A couple hundred feet into the air, you could see the city crumble. You remembered briefly wondering how many bodies were left behind or how many turned into one of those things.  

Everything changed in those first fourteen days of the Outbreak. Eighty percent of the world’s population had been wiped out, unprepared to face a force so vicious. That was how effective the virus was, which was later dubbed the “Gaia Virus”. Mother Nature’s wrath.

The survivors in the States were brought to “safe zones” all over the country, areas barren and isolated enough that the Infected, which mostly stayed in the previously overpopulated cities and towns, were unlikely to get to them. The first few months after the Outbreak were spent being transferred to different safe zones, never staying for more than a week at a time.  

At first, the safe zones were supposed to be a temporary refuge for survivors. The government, or what was left of it, promised to reclaim the cities within a year and make them habitable again. Then a year passed, and they said it would take them another year. So another year passed and they said the same thing. Over and over until… radio silence. No one brought it up again. The few who did were not treated kindly by the rest of the survivors. 

Most people caught onto the memo fairly quickly, with soldiers and generals making up the new leadership hierarchy of the safe zones in place of politicians and peacemakers: you keep your head down, you do as you’re told, and you’ll get food and water and blankets.

The people brave (or stupid) enough to make a scene were never heard from again by the next week.

So there you were, moving across the country, going from state to state and living off of food rations and hope. Both were two resources that were steadily depleting. Benedict was there with you through it all, your steadfast companion. Conversations about surrealism and horrible bosses turned into questions about whether or not your friends and families were safe, if they had made it to the safe zones. That was the first time you saw him cry, not able to withstand the possibility that his beloved mother and siblings were gone, perhaps now part of the Infected. Even if they survived, he knew there was a slim chance he would ever see them again. He cursed himself sometimes, him and his foolish need to be someone. If he had stayed in Kent, if he just settled down like his brothers, perhaps he would still be with them today. But his mother was the kindest woman he had ever known and he knew deep down that she forgave him long before he realized what he’d done. He knew they all did.

Grief was your (and Ben’s) constant state of being. It weighed you down on most days, making your feet dig deeper into the dirt when you walked. On some days, it was all-consuming. It was the only reason most survivors rarely caused any trouble. As horrible as humans could be to each other, this shared grief that echoed through the hearts of everyone was translated into little acts of kindness that, at the best of times, were life-saving. To be given a drop of water by a woman dying of thirst. To be offered a piece of bread by a man whose stomach rumbled louder than his voice. More often than not, it was always the eldest survivors that did this. Perhaps it was because they knew that they had already lived long, fulfilling lives. Perhaps it was because they knew Death was already at their door, so they might as well help someone else live.

Of course, there would always be people looking out for themselves, you and Ben had expected that from the get go, but it still surprised you how much compassion a person could still have at the end of the world. It didn’t happen too often though, but the times that it did were memories you held close to your heart.

The days went by, often cruel and unforgiving to those who couldn’t adjust to the new reality, but Ben still found ways to make you smile. 

“It’s the artist in me,” he said to you one night, three years after the Outbreak, when you had asked him how he could bear to still be so… him. There was a secluded spot you two often escaped to whenever there was a need for it, a small cliff at the edge of the safe zone. You were both slightly tipsy from whiskey you traded some radio parts for. “The whole world’s gone to shit and I can’t help but still find it somewhat beautiful. It’s like a movie, isn’t it? Two friends at the end of the world— and besides, what else are we supposed to do? Wallow in self-pity? I think you and I do enough of that.”

The sun was beginning to set, something you had grown to dislike since that first day. You decided to lie down for a moment, uncaring if bits of soil got in your hair. You closed your eyes, trying to just be. You didn’t always get the opportunity to do that anymore.

“Look,” he nudged your side after a while, his accent slurring a little as he pointed at something. You raised a brow at him, now-open eyes following what his finger was pointing at. The sky. It was pitch black, but a splash of stars covered the heavens like a mural. You had never seen that many stars before, certainly not in the cities you’d lived in your whole life. Ben sighed and your attention was back on him. “You couldn’t see them as clearly back home, but I used to stargaze often with my siblings.”

“That sounds lovely,” you whispered.

“It was.”

The two of you were silent for a while, just sitting on that patch of dirt, overlooking the vast lands that spread as far as the eye can see. That was how isolated these safe zones were. The gentle night breeze tickled your skin. 

“I haven’t really looked at the sky properly since the Outbreak,” you confessed, slumping in your seat. “I think it makes me feel small. And sad. Look at us. Our tiny little planet, how fucked up everything is. Look at us. And there’s a whole universe out there that’s completely indifferent to everything that goes on down here.”

“It’s humbling,” he hummed in understanding. “To be a speck in a great big universe yet feeling a whole universe worth of emotion.”

“That’s good,” you chuckled. “Very poetic.”

He grinned at you, cheeks flushed slightly, “I try.”

Another bout of silence.

“Thank you, by the way.” 

“Whatever for, love?” he raised a brow in curiosity, his tone soft. It always was.

“For being here,” you took a deep breath. “For sticking around.”

His smile shone brighter when he heard this, his hand finding its way around yours. “You’d be mad to think I’d ever leave you here. If anything, you’re stuck with me. I’m just—” he cleared his throat. “I’m just sorry that… that it has to be like this. Drifting, never staying too long in one place to be able to call it a home. You deserve more. You deserve better.”

“You say that like it’s your fault,” your hand squeezed his in hopes of bringing him some comfort. “I’m not gonna lie and say we’re doing alright because we honestly look like shit”—that earned you a hearty chuckle from him—”but we’re doing better than most. And that’s because we’ve had each other all this time. That’s one of the things I was thanking you for. None of this on you, Ben. You deserve more, too. You hear me?”

He straightened his back and flashed you a soft smile, “I hear you.”

The two of you looked back up at the sky, admiring the twinkling of millions of stars. You were somewhere in Arizona, according to the other survivors. Soldiers kept the exact location under lock and key to dissuade survivors from sharing it with others who were still out in the open world. There just wasn’t enough room. But you had a feeling that it had more to do with the risk of attracting Infected. Limited armada and manpower meant the military was just unable to handle that kind of scenario.

You learned more about the Infected over time, having worked odd jobs for the military for more food, water, or supplies. Even something as simple as filtration duty on Tuesdays earned you tidbits of information.

From what you could piece together in the past couple of years, the Gaia Virus most likely came from melting glaciers and ice caps, triggered by global warming. It polluted bodies of water across the world, eventually making its way into reservoirs undetected. It was the perfect way to spread. Nobody can last more than three days without water, so the virus made sure no one would last at all. Once fully turned, Infected were nearly perfect killers. Soldiers sometimes told stories of their encounters with them. They were completely blind, though that much was obvious from the milkiness of their eyes. Infected also didn’t react to any physical damage done to them. Whether or not they felt it was a different story. With possibly two of their senses out of the picture, the rest were heightened. They could hear and smell better than people. If prey were close enough, all those things had to do was follow the scent trail. The fact that these monsters could perceive things humans could barely register was a terrifying thought.

Bodies of Infected retrieved from the destroyed cities were studied, Ben himself had seen this on one such odd job. The virus kills its host before taking over the body, this much was known. However, the brain was shown to endure, preventing the more advanced stages of decomposition. It raised questions about whether or not hosts really died, or if a tiny part of them still lived on even as they transformed into flesh-eating beasts. You’ve heard whispers that it was more like the brain sent constant streams of adrenaline even after death, keeping the body going long after it was supposed to fall apart and rot. True or not, it was the only explanation you had.

You’d seen your fair share of people who’ve fallen victim to a bite; doomed to have their life snuffed out as soon as that was discovered, whether that was by execution or dying to the virus. 

The time it took to die after being bitten was different for everyone. Some died within minutes, others within hours. The longest one you’d seen was a soldier brought back to the Detroit safe zone after a patrol gone wrong. A stray Infected had sensed him and attacked him during the night, leaving a massive bite on his shoulder. He fought so fiercely against the symptoms of the fever, hovering between life and death for nearly an entire day before finally succumbing to the virus. You couldn’t forget how pale he was when he was wheeled into the makeshift camp on a gurney, watching the life be drained out of him in real time. He was shot in the head by his comrades as soon as he turned. The event shook everyone. The disappearances began shortly after that.

The people who spoke up against the military drew the ire of everyone: the military didn’t tolerate people who questioned their authority and everyone else just wanted to mind their own business. When these undesirables began to disappear, everyone chalked it up to them just being hard-headed. The popular theory was they got sick of the military’s iron grip and decided to leave the safe zone, and then probably died. Nobody took it too seriously. Nobody could have done anything about it anyway. Everyone was just focused on staying alive. 

Cooper was another survivor in the Arizona safe zone. You and Ben had been there for a month, and he was the first and only person to welcome you with open arms. He was a lanky man, and had blond hair and kind, brown eyes. Only a few years younger than you. He was the jovial type, often inviting you and Ben to tag along with him on whatever job he found earlier that day. His Boston accent was unmistakable, often getting stronger when offered liquor. 

He was also in strong opposition to the militant lifestyle in the safe zones, though he knew better than to broadcast his distaste. Cooper joined you and Ben on the night the two of you were stargazing, eyes wide in terror. You had never seen him like that before. He was always one to stay optimistic, which was a wonder considering the state of the world. Cooper looked like he ran to get to you, his damp tattered shirt sticking to his body.

He grabbed you by your shoulders, fingertips digging into your skin deep enough to make you wince all while a jumble of words were frantically spewing out of his mouth. Ben immediately got up, nearly growling at Cooper for hurting you, “Get your hands off them.”

It seemed as though Ben’s warning briefly snapped Cooper back to reality, because the man did pull away but his hands still trembled violently.

“What’s wrong?” you furrowed your brows in worry, unused to seeing Cooper in such a state.

“You need to get out of here,” it felt like there was something darker lingering behind his words. He looked at Ben. “You need to go.”

“Hold on, hold on,” Ben cut him off, his protectiveness from before calming down when he finally noticed the genuine panic and fear in Cooper’s eyes. “Tell us what’s happening.”

The poor man looked like he was ready to explode right then and there. He was practically soaked in his own sweat, both from the exhaustion of running to get to you and Ben, and the shock of the news he brought, it seemed.

“They were taking them,” he choked back tears, his feet stuck to the ground. His nostrils were flaring from how hard he was breathing.

“Who, Coop? Who’s taking who?” this time it was your hands on his shoulders, though your touch was gentle, trying to keep him grounded. 

“The soldiers,” he whispered, his voice grim. “We- we thought they were executing them for questioning the army but I saw them! I saw them. In the big tent. They’re trying… they’re trying to make a vaccine.”

The severity of his tone reminded you all too much of Ben at your doorstep on that very first day of the Outbreak.

Ben’s surprise was palpable, “What?”

“A vaccine,” Cooper stressed, each breath he drew was ragged (you could hear it from how close he was standing to you), “but it’s not working. I saw the bodies. Whatever they’re doing, it’s torture— you should’ve seen them. They infected them on purpose.”

Your blood went cold, like liquid nitrogen shocking your system. That’s what the army had been doing all this time?  It made perfect sense, but the new information flooded your brain with images of those people who went missing, strapped to a table, and being injected with the virus. If they were trying to make a vaccine, they—the test subjects—would have to have been kept alive for as long as possible, conscious of the parasite invading their body. It made your stomach churn, forcing you to step back and look away. Ben was similarly devastated, jaw clenched as he stared at Cooper. He zeroed in on a different piece of information.

There were Infected in the safe zone.

“That’s… they can’t just keep taking people,” he gritted his teeth. Cooper stayed silent. Ben spoke again, firmer and more desperate this time, “...can they?”

“Nobody’s gonna come looking for you even if they did,” Cooper said, defeated. Still breathing hard. “We’re too far away. And if the rest of the safe zones aren’t already in the same situation then they aren’t gonna waste gas to go all the way here. The soldiers here can just make up something and no one would know.”

An “oh, God” left your lips, your hands shaking, mirroring Cooper’s. From where you stood, you could see the main camp and the largest tent, the main military tent, in the middle of it. You’ve walked past it, stared at it a hundred times, and never knew what was going on inside. You found yourself asking if there was a time when you stared at that tent, and just on the other side was someone just like you being experimented on with the deadliest virus known to mankind.Your eyes stung with tears when your treacherous mind thought of Ben in that position, bruised by different needles and tubes protruding from him.

“Please, you need to go,” Cooper pleaded with the two of you desperately, his head hanging low.

“Shit,” Ben cursed under his breath, rubbing his eyes with one hand in frustration. “All of our supplies are back in the main camp.” 

“You can’t go back!”

“We’ll die out there if we don’t get those supplies,” you pointed out to the blond. “We wouldn’t last a week.”

Ben had already begun to walk back to camp, masking his anxieties to the best of his abilities if what Cooper was saying was true. You weren’t that far behind, ears ringing with Cooper’s pleas not to go back. He didn’t chase after you anymore, falling silent once he realized there was nothing he could do to change your mind. It was only a short trek from the cliff back to the main camp. The outer perimeter of the safe zone was always being patrolled by soldiers which meant, without any weapons, you would’ve been dead if you tried to escape right away. A checkpoint came into view along with the two guards, Paul and Walter, holding rifles on either side of the path. You were familiar with each other from how often you passed through this checkpoint to get to the cliff.

“Paul, Walter,” Ben smiled coolly at the guards once you were finally standing in front of them. “Late shift? I thought you’d have switched with Reese by now.”

“Higher-ups needed more men in other places, so here we are,” Paul sighed, before turning his attention to you. “You guys back at the cliff again?”

“Yeah,” you mimicked Ben, feigning a smile of your own. You still weren’t completely sure if Cooper had been telling the truth, but interacting with Paul felt different now that you knew what could’ve been happening behind closed doors. “Camp can be a little too much sometimes, y’know? No offense. Just… needed to get away for a while.”

Paul nodded in understanding. 

“Okay, you know the routine,” Walter shrugged, handing you and Ben a bloodchecker each. It was a small vial full of a blue solution, connected to a thin, replaceable tube ending with a needle. The solution would turn clear if mixed with Gaia-infected blood, and a dark muddy brown if the blood was clean. You pierced your arm with the needle, watching your blood travel through the tube and drip down into the solution, turning it brown as you had expected. Glancing over at Ben’s bloodchecker, you found that his was the same. Thankfully.

You were about to pass through the checkpoint when Walter pulled Ben aside, muttering something you couldn’t quite make out, but you saw Ben’s reaction. To anyone else, it would have seemed like he didn’t react at all. Most people only would’ve noticed his polite smile and hushed ‘thank you” to the guard before returning to your side, but you saw through it: the slightest twitch of his hand and the way his lips tightened at what Walter told him. It was so clear to you that he was bothered by it, whatever it was. 

“What was that?” you asked him, trying to keep up with his fast-paced stride.

He only spared you a single glance, only a single moment of softness, but now you were inside the central safe zone. Soldiers were standing guard in every direction. There seemed to be more of them than usual. Ben continued forward to the direction of your tent which was a bit farther from everyone else’s. He kept his voice low, “Not here.”

Your shared tent with Ben was bare. The apocalypse didn’t exactly grant you a life of luxury, but that tent was yours. It stayed the same after every new safe zone you were transferred to. Next to the two worn down single mattresses were your backpacks, one of the only things you still had from before the Outbreak besides each other. While you double-checked your supplies, making sure nothing was missing while you were gone, Ben slid one of the mattresses to the side, which was sitting on top of an old rug. He pulled that aside too, his hands digging into the soil, digging and digging until finally, you could see the lid of a crate you had buried.

The crate was filled with jugs of water. Clean, pure, uninfected water. The result of three years of patiently collecting rainwater and saving up whatever the army gave you, carefully filtering each drop throughout the night when you knew no one else would be bothering you. This water was precious. It was gold. And it was a pain to move from safe zone to safe zone. You and Ben had had to resort to bribing and lying for the past three years to make sure it was safe. 

Once you were done checking over the supplies, you knelt by Ben’s side. “So… are you gonna tell me what Walter said to you or are you gonna keep being mysterious?” you tried to keep your tone light.

“They were looking for Cooper,” his gaze didn’t leave the jugs of water. His hands, once always covered in paint, were now caked in dirt. “Said we should report him if we did.”

“What?” you questioned. “That doesn’t make any sense, everyone has to go in and out of that checkpoint to get to the cliff. There’s no way Paul and Walter didn’t see him.”

“So how could he have seen all of those supposed experiments in the main tent?” he turned to face you, his expression severe. “That tent is the most heavily guarded thing in this camp. If what he said is true, then there was no way he could’ve left and not be spotted and then somehow manage to get to us without going through the checkpoint.” 

The two of you sat in silence for a while, racking your brains for any sort of information that could help you get closer to solving this mystery. It was entirely plausible that Cooper had been lying about the experimentations and the vaccines but despite having only known him for a short while, you knew he wasn’t the type to do something like that. He wouldn’t lie about something like that. Hell, he was the kind of person that worked overtime during the apocalypse. He was an honest man.

Then you remembered something.

“It’s Tuesday today.”

Ben looked at you, puzzled, “Yes, it is… What’s going through your head, love?”

“Filtration duty,” you answered. “They filter out the water in the main tent…”

“...then dump the waste outside of camp,” Ben finished for you, eyes widening. “You think Cooper was in the main tent on purpose?”

“I mean, that’s the only explanation, right? Nothing else has left camp since last week and nobody checks a truck carrying waste. Maybe Cooper was on one of those trucks,” you said before looking back at Ben. “I… I thought I was just seeing things. Did you notice how he was earlier?”

“Out of breath from running…?” Ben frowned, not quite following your train of thought as easily as he usually did.

“He wasn’t just out of breath. He was smelling me.” 

You could practically hear the cogs turning in his head as he put the pieces together. He couldn’t quite believe the conclusion he arrived at, that much you could tell, but the disbelief washed away when no other possible explanation presented itself to him.

“How?” his voice was shaky, a quiet sort of devastation clouding his features. Cooper was likely already infected earlier, though you couldn’t tell which stage of infection he was at. The signs pointed to a peculiar middleground between the fever that occurred right before death, and the grotesque reanimation once the virus had complete control over the body.

“Maybe he was telling the truth. Part of it, at least.”

You both looked back at the jugs of water, taking out a few of the smaller containers before hurriedly placing the lid back on the crate. With the crate concealed by the soil and rug, you and Ben made quick work of gathering your things, hiding the small jugs of water underneath clothes, foods, and whatever else were in your bags. 

You always made sure to have a plan in case you ever needed to leave a safe zone. The water you collected was too valuable; you had to be able to move it whenever and wherever you needed, but with all the soldiers standing guard outside, you knew this would be impossible even with all of your planning. You just had to bring what you could.

Without uttering a word, you and Ben both knew this was the last night you were ever going to spend in this place. 

-

series taglist: comment down below if you'd like to be added!

[ysrjune]

hi! i know you don't usually write for clay, so feel free to delete this if you want. but, if youre up for it, I'd love to see inpatient!clay beresford x inpatient!reader (maybe also w heart condition i have one and i just think it would be cute). and like maybe they both have surgery on the same day or smth soft of them comforting each other through this or smth idk i just need patient!reader w clay so bad 🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻 ( if u like angst also im not against one of them dying at the end)

My Baby

i’m so sorry that I replied to this so late, but hey.. at least I responded, right 🥰⁉️ thank you for your ask <3

summary ✦ clay and reader have heart surgery the same day, and they comfort each other.

“We’ll be okay.” Clay runs his fingers through your hair in hopes it will calm you down. your surgery was less than a few hours away, and you were scared. what if the doctors do something wrong that ends up in death for you or clay.. or both. Clay was your everything, and you couldn't bare to lose him.

“You don't know that for sure.” she sighed, looking up at Clay to say something else, but he beat her to it. “Yes I do. what kind of hospital hires doctors that don't know how to be doctors.” he was just trying to make you feel better. he knew there were always risks in any situation for surgery. “After this, we're gonna be fine, sweetie. more than fine.” he kissed your cheek. “we'll start our own family and be happy the rest of our lives without being scared of randomly dying on the spot.”

Clay was always better with coming to peace with his condition, so much so that it didn't bother him to make jokes about randomly dying on the spot. you, on the other hand, were really scared of dying and not being able to fulfill a good enough life. you wanted to have fun, find a suitable husband to raise a family with, and be the best wife & mother you could be. so, the thought of death being able to take you out of nowhere was terrifying.

“clay, dont say that. It's not funny.” you look down to his chest. “I just.. want us to live the life we deserve.”, “and we will. I'm telling you, baby, nothing bad is gonna happen, you'll see.” he placed a gentle kiss on your lips.

—

the time finally came, and you were being pushed on the hospital beds to the surgery rooms. Clay held your hand the whole way there since his bed was next to yours. “I love you, clay. with all my weak heart has to give.” he wanted to burst into tears. this could he the last time you see each other. as much as he didn't wanna think about it, he did. his beautiful angel being taken away from him or him being taken away from you, ending up in not giving you the life you wanted with him. still, he put a smile on and looked at your wedding ring, then his. “I love you too, y/n. I'll never stop loving you.” even the nurses who were pushing your beds wanted to cry.

“if anything happens, you were the one for me, baby. the only one. the girl of my dreams.” he gives the softest half smile as you're close to parting ways to different rooms. “I'll see you out of surgery, honey.” you respond, kissing your fingers and placing it on his hand. he shed a tear and nodded as you split ways.

—

things were going great for the first half of everything that the doctors did. but then something went wrong.. very wrong. the heart wasnt receiving enough blood flow. the doctors didn't even notice until it was too late. how could they break the news? after the nurses told them about how all you two wanted was to stay here on earth with each other and raise a baby of your own. that didn't matter anymore. you were dead.

Clay woke up from surgery, his mother and a couple of friends by his bed. his first instinct was to look over to the bed next to him so he could see you. nothing. the bed was empty. it made his still fragile heart begin to beat fast in worry. “where is she?” he looked to his mother with teary eyes. “where is my wife?” his voice cracked. he was staring to cry. did you make it? please, God, he hoped you made it and you were just put in a different room.

All his mother and friends did was frown at him, crying as well. Clay sucked in air and started to cry. sniffling while shaking his head, he still kept looking to the bed. “No, no, no. this wasn't how it was supposed to go. youre all lying.” his cries were heartbreaking. “Mom?” he switched his gaze to her, hoping it was all a lie.. a dream.. a hallucination. anything but the truth.

“I'm sorry, Clay.” that was it. you were officially gone. his baby was gone. not just you, but the baby he could have given you. the baby he could love and see you through the eyes of your child.

Clay never emotionally recovered from that. he never dated either. never even dared to stare or flirt with another woman. all he ever did was work, drink, visit your grave, and go to bed. occasionally visit some friends and family, but that was it. his life was never the same without you. he kept all your things. he sprayed your signature perfume on your pillow thst he cuddled with to just pretend you were still there with him.

Clay Beresford was absolutely miserable for the rest of his life without you.

｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ

taglist: @anakinstwinklebunny @heartsforanakin @anisscarletstarlet @sockiess @erosmutt @rottencandyblood @radiantvader @freezerbride95 @starsfortaylor 🎀

[vibratingskull]

Would I be able to request Thrawn x pregnant reader? Where Thrawn realizes she’s pregnant before the reader does and gets very protective, but the reader does not understand why, and they end up in an argument but Thrawn wants her to discover the pregnancy herself. I’m not sure how you’d go about that but I know you’re a really good writer so I’d love to see you write that imagine if that makes sense.

Future dad Thrawn, protective Thrawn, jealous Thrawn protecting his pregnant wife... A dream come true really.

Thrawn x F!reader

It just started like any other month, but both of your fates transcended that day.  

“Maker fricking... Gosh!” He hears you curse through the bathroom wall. 

“Is there a problem, Ch’acah? Do you need assistance?” He rises from the sofa to knock at the door. 

You open the door visibly tired.  

“It’s just... My period stopped again but the cramps are here once again!” You sigh visibly at the end of your life. 

Nothing out of the ordinary. Your periods have always been unpredictable since he knew you thanks to PCOS. You could not have them for several months straight and then bleed for almost an entire month. Or they could just come back normal for a period to completely derail once again, just to taunt you. But no matter what, the cramps always come back with a vengeance. 

He could only stand as a witness of your distress and help in the little ways he can. 

“I am terribly sorry, ch’eo Ch’acah. What can I do to help?” 

You sighed again, lowering your shoulders, terribly irritated. 

“I want to nap for an entire month.” 

He smiles, empathetic. He remembers back in the Ascendancy, he was the go-to guy to ask to buy period products in his social circle when no girls around could do it. He never saw it as weird or even humiliating to go to the counter with a tampon box in hand, his friends needed his help and who was he to refuse to extend his hand? He got a lot of weird looks when he entered the pharmacy in his neat Naporar uniform only to go straight to the women’s health section. Ziara forgot her period was supposed to start and he never saw her so... distraught, so on edge and on the verge of tears. He offered her his jacket to wrap around her hips to hide any stains and headed to the store immediately. 

Since that day he always carried a pad in his bag in case of emergency for his friends and female classmates. 

And it came in use more than one time! 

His behavior didn’t change when he started dating you, if anything it came in handy a lot. Always checking if you had a box of menstrual protection in advance without you even asking him, remembering you to sterilize your cup regularly when you wanted to try it, changing numerous sheets you bleed on during the night, hand washing the blood stains on your pajamas that the washer didn’t get. 

He also makes sure you have painkillers at arm’s reach at any time, he will prepare as many hot water bottles as you need while you lay in bed, in pain and uncomfortable, and he will massage your back or rub your lower belly delicately each time you ask, applying gentle pressures strategically. 

He knows an orgasm can greatly reduce periods cramps and will gladly give you one to help relieve you by gently massaging your clit until you are a shaking mess in his hands or a cunnilingus, his favorite method, whether you are bleeding or not. He is not afraid of a bit of blood on his tongue and will eat you out longly until you come hard in his mouth and finally relax as your orgasm eases your painful muscles. 

But if you only want a cuddle he will join you in bed and hold you tight, as the big spoon, caressing your tummy softly. 

That’s no big deal, that’s just what being a good husband is. 

“I understand your distress, Ch’acah. But maybe a month’s nap is unrealistic.”  

You purse your lips, going to sit on the bed. 

“Not only that but I’m super smelly and I hate that.” You grouse. 

He tilts his head. 

“What do you mean? You always smell lovely.” 

“You wish. I already took a shower this morning and I need to take one again, I think my hormones are fucking me up today. I feel so dirty.”  

“Your hygiene is impeccable.” 

“Judge for yourself if you don’t believe me!” You start losing patience, too in pain to be rational. 

He gently approaches to take your hand and smells your wrist. 

He takes a sniff. 

And froze. 

“See?” You respond “I’m dirty, I’m sweaty and miserable!” 

He doesn’t listen, his brain is too focused on trying to rationalize what he is smelling at this very second. He remains still, one knee to the ground, your hand in his, his nose above your delicate wrist and his eyes slowly blinking in the realization of what he is smelling. 

Is it possible? After so many tries, after so many failed attempts and heartbreaking clinical news, could you truly be...? 

He switfly turns his head to you, a breath caught in his throat. You round your eyes in surprise. 

“Wow okay... No need to look so shocked, I know I smell, I’ll take a shower.” 

You do not understand, not yet. 

You hate that odor but to him this is the most delectable one he ever got to smell. 

He slightly rises to push your hair out of the way to bury is face in your neck. 

He has to be sure... 

He deeply inhales with his red eyes closed. 

Oh that delicious smell... 

His heart contracts painfully as he feels waves of dark energy in his veins, propelling him forward, and forcing you to lay on the mattress under his weight. You yelp in surprise as he grabs a fistful of your hair and hugs you painfully tight. 

“Thrawn? What the-” 

He brushes his nose against the skin of your neck, reveling in this new scent, full of wonders and promises. 

After all those years, are you finally pregnant? Full with his baby, your little one to the both of you? Are you going to make him a father? 

His reason urges him to the be rationnal and level headed but his Chiss instincts are waking up with a vengeance of being asleep for so long! 

A baby! 

A miracle! 

He cannot fight the urge to lick your neck from shoulder to jaw, he wants to taste that smell, to taste this victory against destiny itself. 

So many doctors and medics warned your couple. You had fertility problems and you are from two different species, and while you never said it out loud you kind of stopped hoping for a baby after several years of unfruitful tries. You simply resigned yourself. 

He couldn’t hold it against you. You knew your body and you knew the odds. 

He never stopped hoping, he simply kept it low to not upset you, the subject getting sensitive for you. 

But today, 

Today you are pregnant! Today you cheated fate! 

He feels the thrills flowing in his veins, pushing him to claim you as his, leaving his odor on you to deter any rivals. He almost digs his nails in your flesh to keep you close to him. 

He mentally slaps himself, getting back control over that brutal urge, he recover is usual sterness and gently kisses your cheek. 

You look at him suspicsiously, what got over him? 

“As I said, you smell lovely.” He smiled lightly. 

 “What kind of reaction was that?” You ask gauging him up and down. 

“My apologies, Chiss are more sensible to odors and scents than humans.” 

“... And you like mine when I’m sweaty and dirty?” You ask more and more incredulous. 

“You are not dirty, my love.” He brushes his nose with yours, holding your face between his two hands, “And for the record, I love your smell no matter what, I can learn so many things about you with it, like where you are in your cycle, or if you’re off of it...” He tries to hint at it. 

“Hugh, don’t tell me about it.” 

You do not understand. 

It is all right. You are really early in the pregnancy, you have all the time to discover it. 

In fact he wont say a thing, leaving you the surprise. He will even lie and pretend he didn’t knew when you will reveal to him the news, triumphant, that you succeeded against all odds. 

That will be your victory and he will celebrate you for it. 

He can even celebrate you tonight without you knowing! 

“In fact I love it so much I want to devour you right now.” He purrs lowly, waving his hips against yours, brushing his loins between your open legs. 

“Oh Thrawn...” You wince, “I can’t do it with you tonight, I’m too uncomfortable, I’m sorry I-” 

“Oh no, no, no, no, Ch’acah.” He reassures you, “You lay back and relax, let me do the work. I will take great care of you.” 

He knows you can’t do penetrative sex in this state, he will eat you out all night long instead. He is drooling just thinking about it. 

Oh, he’s gonna take such good care of you sweetheart, let him work his magic on you and enjoy yourself! You deserve so many orgasms for your marvelous present to him, he feels motivated to break his personal record. 

He will stop only when you will be crying from overstimulation...  

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

“Did you take weight?” Xoxtin asks out of the blue while loudly munching on her dish. 

You raise a warning glance at her. From the corner of your eyes, you see Karin tensing up and Lark’s bite almost takes a wrong turn. 

“I am saying that for you, you should hit the gym more often.” she continues, inconsiderate. 

You roll your eyes with a sigh, who accepted her at the table again?  

“How do you expect to find a man if you let yourself go like that?” She insists. 

“Did he ever crossed your mind that I was not searching for a man maybe?” You falsely smile at her. 

You indeed gained some weight recently, but it always fluctuates with your condition. What’s more bothering you lately is the sickness you have at different time of the day for two weeks now.  

Thrawn is also weirdly... on edge recently? Hard to describe but he is a lot more tactile, hugging just a bit too tight to be comfortable, like he was trying to melt your bodies into one, he seems to try to hold you back when you release his hand, and he seems constantly looming behind your back. You could swear you heard him growl at a colleague talking to you yesterday! 

And as romantic as it might sound you both agreed to keep your marriage a secret and he really isn’t making any effort to be subtle lately. 

Xoxtin purses her lips in disaproval. 

“It’s going to come bite you in the neck if you’re not careful” 

“I have PCOS. I gain and lose weight at the goodwill of my uterus. That’s kinda outside of my control.” 

“I’m saying that for you.” She speaks with her mouth full. 

“Oh come on,” Lark slides into the conversation uninvited, “With or without those new pounds she would still have that pretty face to make heads spin.”  

He suddenly wraps his arm around your shoulder to press you against his body. You’re so taken aback you don’t stop him, do not even tell him to release you. He grabs your chin with his other hand . 

“Look at her! She is adorable.” And he just kisses your cheek. 

You are just about to flick him off when he’s literally ripped out of you violently, making you jump away in fear and surprise.  

“What the...?!” 

You discover Thrawn, looming over Lark, on the ground. His hands are clasped behind his back as usual but he looks at him with daggers, his eyes shine brighter proof of an inner turmoil or intense emotion. He is visibly tense, more than you ever saw him. Lark looks up at him, confused like he doesn’t understand it is Thrawn who just threw him across the floor like trash. 

“Gr-Grand Admiral Thrawn?” He bablbutiates. 

“You will not lay your hands on her again. Am I clear?” Thrawn enunciates slowly, is tone deadly cold. 

You can hear him spit the words between his gritted teeth. 

“It.. It was nothing, just a little peck, I-” 

“Never.Again.Am.I.Clear?” Thrawn repeats deadly. 

“Grand Admiral Thrawn!” You interject, “It’s all right, it was nothing, he was joking.” 

He spins to you and his gaze shocks you to your core. 

He is beyond pissed off. 

He is properly enraged. 

“This was not all right. This was not nothing.” He counters in a calm tone that sends shivers down your spine, “I cannot let such behaviors fly. This is unjustifiable.”  

Okay, Lars trespassed your boundaries but in the end, it was just a kiss on the cheek, Karyn kisses your cheek all the time and Thrawns looks ready to demolish him to blood. He never reacted like that before. 

The fuck was that? 

“I will take him to have a word in my office, Grand Admiral. Do not worry.” Karyn intervenes, standing up she helps Lark to stand up and walk away with him. 

Thrawn keeps looking at you, still and mute while the rest of the mess hall still wonders how to react to that act, silently observing their Grand Admiral they seem ready to flee and scatter at any sound. 

They finally look back at their plates in submission but you remain standing, looking at Thrawn with incomprehension. He grabs your hand and pulls you in the corridor of the Chimaera. 

“Thrawn, what the fuck?!” You complain. 

“I do not want you to eat at the mess hall anymore. You will take your meals in my suite from now on.” He doesn't even look at you saying that, he just keeps walking straight ahead, pulling you behind him. 

“Why would I do that?” You protest at his audacity. 

“Because I order it.” 

You rip your hand of his grip harshly, prompting him to stop and turn towards you with eyes telling you are in trouble. 

But you can be both enraged. 

“Thrawn. With all the respect I owe you, who the fuck do you think you are to order me around like that?” 

He straightens his back, rising with all his height. 

“Your Grand Admiral, and more importantly, your husband.” 

You just cannot believe what you are hearing right now. This is so unlike him! He never got so angry that he resorted to violence, that he physically removed you from a place and now is ordering you around like that! 

Thrawn is not like that. This is not the man you chose for the rest of your life. 

“You think it gives you any power over me?!” 

He advert his gaze to look around and open a door. 

“Please enter. Let us discuss inside privately.” 

You breathe through your nose and enter, not without stabbing him with your eyes. Once inside the conference room, you spin to look at him, crossing your arms on your chest and frowning. 

“What is wrong with you lately? What is going on?!” 

“You are obviously the victim of sexual harassment by your male colleagues. I took the action to intervene for your integrity.” 

You blink, taking a second to process his words. 

“Lark is a dumbass and a clown, but he is not dangerous. If you didn’t ‘take action’ as you said I would have been able to get rid of him myself and with way less drama and publicity.” You correct him. 

He readjusts his position on his feet, grounding himself. He seems calmer but his eyes remain dark and agitated. 

“So you expected me to not act when he put his hands on your body and kissed you without consent?” He asks. 

“No. And I am glad you reacted to protect me. But throwing him to the ground like that? Publically? Like I thought our marriage was supposed to remain a secret and today you seemed ready to beat him to a pulp!” 

“I acted to protect you.” 

“Did you? Or did you protect your ego?”  

His nostril flares but he remains silent. 

Why can’t you see ? 

How you make heads turn and spin all around. 

Before he didn’t mind it. He knows you will never cheat on him, as he would never cheat on you. He never felt the need to resort to violence to deter any rivals, you stopped them very effectively yourself as he gazed lovingly at you from afar. 

But since he knows, all looks caressing your skin is insufferable to him, revolting, a stab in his own flesh, cutting so deep he feels like bleeding to death. 

So when Lark laid his hands on you and kissed your cheek, his brain just... Blacked out. 

His conscience took a backseat as his instincts took the reins and he grabbed the poor fool to throw him on the ground. He didn’t punched him, but he didn't lack the will. 

It was terribly tempting to make him an example.  

To assert his dominance over the foolish suitor who though he could steal the pregnant wife of a Chiss. It doesn’t matter that he doesn’t know. Who kisses a colleague so brazenly like that in the first place? 

He knew that it would be challenging. He heard tales of males Chiss going off the rails for their pregnant partner in his youth and witnessed some crazy acts in his adulthood. So he knew he would have to prepare himself mentally to protect your common secret, to not loose his cool. He even thought that he would rise above that, that he had full control of his anger and possessivity. 

But when he saw Lark all over you... 

It was simply so sickening and maddening, and his protective and possessive instinct just screamed at him so loudly that he simply lost control. He forgot about your relationship being a secret, he forgot about being the Grand Admiral, he forgot about his usual restrain. 

His only goal was your and the baby’s safety. Who does this man thought he was to touch a Chiss’ mate? A Chiss’ wife? The future mother of a Chiss? He needed to be put in his place urgently.  

Now that he has calmed down, he realizes how unbecoming of him and reckless it was.  

But if you think he is going to say sorry, you are terribly wrong. 

He will not apologize for protecting his pregnant wife. In fact he will do it again, as many times as he has to. 

The thing that you are not understanding and that he is slowly realizing right now, is that he could kill fo you. 

One of his own officers, no second thought.  

If they push the right buttons, he will not take responsibility for his actions.  

Because Chiss are protective of their families to an extent you still have absolutely no idea. When Chiss see their partner and children in danger, things get really dangerous, really quickly.  

The syndicure had to put special laws in place and create a special category of crime for those very situations. The murder of a rival to protect a wife and an unborn baby was a classic of Chiss culture since millennials, it was a popular trope for books and movies, plays and operas, something deeply ingrained in their psyche. 

Barbaric for other species, perfectly justified in their eyes. 

So you can sit your pretty butt on any apology because you’re not going to get one. 

“Won’t you say something at least?!” You press him. 

“I understand where you are coming from. But I do not expect you to understand.” 

“Oh really? And why is that if you please? What, I am too stupid to understand the Grand Admiral Thrawn’s glorious mind?” You scoff. 

He deeply inhales. He really doesn’t want to tell you, it would spoil it for you. You deserve to discover it for yourself and have the joy to tell him. He so longs for your sparking eyes when you will approach him with a pregnancy test hidden behind your back. Who is he to rob you of that special moment? 

“You know I never thought that about you.” He counters . 

“Well you sure sound like you do right now.” 

You are very clearly pissed at him but right now he wants nothing more but to take you in his arms and carry you tight to the suite to lay in bed with you. He wants to hide you from the rest of the universe, to hug you so tight that you fusion in one single being, like that you will be safe and sound. He wants to smell his scent on you, mixing with yours in a perfect new fragrance. He wants you safe under his body, caged by his weight so nothing could ever reach and hurt you, protecting you with his large stature. 

But you would claw his face. So he keeps his urge on a leash. 

“I never had and never will have such opinions about you, I respect you too much.” 

“But clearly not enough to have the nerves to order me around like that!”  

You’re really not going to spare him, do you? 

Would he usually have the nerve to grab you to drag you to another place or give you orders like a child? No. 

But he felt justified. When it comes to protecting his Ch’acah and unborn baby he has all the rights in the universe! 

Protecting you and your baby is his sole focus and worry every day, his mission to the Empire became secondary to him. 

“Listen. I don’t know what came over you but I have been sick for months now, I don’t sleep, I puke every day, my back is destroyed and my PCOS is acting up, so I do not have the patience to deal with men petty ego battles right now!” You almost shout, at the end of your patience. 

He remains silent, listening to you breathing heavily. He patiently waits, looking at you silently. He is fully calmed down now and only looks at you with adoration in his shiny red eyes. 

How could he be mad at you when you are carrying his child? This is simply impossible. This is beyond him. 

“Do you feel better?” He softly ask. 

You wince. 

“I.... Yes. Sorry I screamed. But it needed to be said.” You respond, with a nicer tone. 

“I understand and do not hold it against you. In your state mood swings are very common.” 

You sniff, slowly relaxing. 

“My state, my state... PCOS don’t give me mood swing you know it.” You caress a strand of hair behind your ear. 

“I am not talking about your PCOS, Ch’acah. “ 

You raise an eyebrow with a silent question. 

He ponders, should he tell you? Keep the secret? 

Sure seeing you come to him with your largest smile to tell you the news sounds terribly alluring, but keeping the news away from will prevent you from getting the appropriate care. 

You could hurt yourself and the baby at the gym or while training with colleagues. 

He got rid of all the alcohol bottles in the suite behind your back but he knows Faro has a nice whisky collection and loves to invite you over. 

The risks are too high, every new day brings its new set of dangers. He needs to put a stop to it. 

“You may want to sit, my love.”  

You look at him, incredulous, but cave in. 

He sits in another chair and leans forward to take your hand in his. He gently caresses the back of it with his thumb, reveling in the softness of your thin human skin. He looks at you and cannot refrain from a smile stretching his lips right now, his second hand comes to caress your cheek. 

Your shared life flashes in his mind, all those moments at each other side. So precious.  

“I love you so much, Ch’acah.” He softly says, devouring your gorgeous face with his eyes. 

“Thrawn, you look like you’re about to tell me something shocking.” You reply a bit freaked out. 

He chuckles lightly. 

“You will be shocked, I am sure. But in a good way, I promise you.” 

“Okay.” You readjust yourself in your chair, bracing yourself for what he is about to throw at you. “I am listening.” 

“(Y/n), Ch’acah, my love, light of my days, star of my nights,” He says incredibly softly, squeezing your hand tenderly, caressing your cheekbone, his read eyes spilling love, “You are pregnant.” 

@Bluechiss @Thrawnalani @justanothersadperson93 @al-astakbar @thrawnspetgoose @readinglistfics @elise2174 @debonaire-princess @twilekchiss @pencil_urchin @ineedazeezee @mssbridgerton @dance-like-russia-isnt-watching @Cortisolcosplay @obbicrystaleo @germie2037 @exoplorationn @leo4242564 @jennfir @davesrightshoe 

[hrefna-the-raven]

The hunt

Fallout masterlist - main masterlist

Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x reader

Summary: Dom Pedro's caravan is in sight but you and Coop know exactly how to play this in your favour 😉

(this happens before Cooper ended up in that grave)

Words: 1404

Warnings: swearing, violence

Notes: this is still quite gender-neutral 😊 the next chapter will be less neutral for *cough* naughty *cough* reason 😇

Chapter 2 - The bounty

You snatched a sniper rifle from your backpack and made your way towards the upper level of a towering building, concealing yourself behind a weathered wall as you surveyed the approaching gang. Cooper gazed at you for a moment, lost in thoughts. You continued to be full of surprises and unusually well prepared for someone this young but then again, compared to an over two centuries old ghoul everyone seemed young. He came to the conclusion that, despite having only known you for a few hours, he enjoyed your company way too much. From the moment you looked up, a mischievous smile playing on your lips, he felt an ache, an old familiar pain from days long past, intertwined with a connection he rarely ever formed with others, even before the Great War. And yet, there was something about your way of being, a sweet tune that resonated perfectly with his own woeful ballad.

"Seeing something you like?", you teased, grinning at him.

"Certainly not what's headin' towards us.", he huffed, pointing at the group heading towards your position.

Cooper scolded himself internally, he'd never been this distracted, not on a job, not with anyone else. He grumbled, pulling his attention back to the task at hand. Dom Pedro's so-called caravan turned out to be a pack of seven well armed raiders, one of them wearing a modified power armour.

"Guess someone tried to fuck us both, but not in the fun way", you joked.

Cooper chuckled as he took hold of your rifle and peered through the scope at the armoured raider.

"Feelin' all mighty hiding behind his twelve-piece cast-iron skillet set but he's gonna have a hell of a surprise. Aim just below the chestplate.", he whispered in your ear, a pleased smirk forming on his lips as he loaded his revolver.

"And what are you gonna do?"

"Distract them with my irresistible charms."

Cooper stood up, shrugged his shoulders, and winked at you before making his way towards the raiders.

You aimed at the power armour's chestplate, waiting patiently until you heard the ghoul's whistle, drawing the raiders' attention to him. A faint smile tugged on the corners of your mouth. The way he carried himself, full of confidence and that smug grin plastered across his face, made your heart beat faster. Throughout your travels and hunts, you had met many different personalities but not a single one was quite like him. It wasn't merely your crush on the pre-war Cooper Howard whose movies you devoured whenever you had a spare moment, this connection deepened the instant you finally encountered him, winding its way under your skin, striking its roots into your beating heart. You weren't oblivious to the subtle glances he stole in your direction, leaving you to wonder if he had been caught in the same dilemma.

"Well, I tell you what, boys, whenever somebody walks around as fancy and loud as you, they gotta have something worth takin'", he slowly pointed at the wooden crate tightly clasped by the taller raider, "you know it'd be a real shame of those fine bottles would go to waste on a bunch of dickheads like you."

The armoured one stepped up, pointing his minigun at Cooper, his voice hollering from behind the mounted rusty cage.

"Oh yeah? What about you, ghoul? Did the radiation melt away your brain or why do stand here, unarmed, trying to threaten us?!"

Cooper laughed, raising both hands in a fingergun gesture, aimed at the raider.

"Careful buddy, ghoul's got magic powers."

He imitated shooting which you took as your cue and fired a shot right underneath chestplate. The raider stood still, like frozen in time for a second, leaving you wondering if you had missed but then he collapsed on the ground without a sound. Your eyes widened at the sight, marveling at how easy you just took out someone in a power armour. You usually avoided those while hunting alone but this was a game changer. With a swift reload of your rifle, you took aim at the next raider, a chuckle escaping your lips as you observed their startled reaction to their companion's sudden death.

"So what will it be? Shall I reload my", his eyes wandered to his fingers, a wicked smile spreading across his lips, "guns or will you be good little raiders and hand me that crate?"

One of them pushed his way through the group, pointing his gun at Cooper. Before he could even reach him to shout his threats, one of your bullets found its mark and took him out, his lifeless body slumping to the ground in front of the ghoul who was still grinning.

"We still outnumber him, you morons! Get him!", another one screamed.

What happened next was the precise reason why you'd decided to forgo Dom Pedro's proposition and opted to work with this remarkable gunslinger. Cooper snatched his revolver out of the holster, his body leaning slightly backward as a flurry of shots rang out and before your mind could even comprehend what exactly happened, all of the raiders, with the exception of the one clutching the crate, were lying on the ground, crimson pools forming around their corpses. You stowed away your rifle, slung your bag over your shoulder, grasped the shotgun and made your way down to join Cooper.

"You got two choices, buddy. You either join your friends in their eternal nap or you hand over those fine bottles and be on your merry, very much alive, way."

Hiding behind the corner of a crumbling wall, you watched the scene unfold. The raider trembled so much that you could hear the bottles clinking together as he sat the crate down. Faint sobs escaped his lips, his feet moving a few steps backwards before turning around, fleeing in terror. Just as he passed by you, a deafening shot echoed through the ruins, his head exploding into countless tiny pieces before his corpse hit the ground, the blood drops, brain matter and skull fragments raining down on the sand. Cooper cocked his brow, intrigued by the unfolding murder scene that lay before him. You emerged from around the corner, your shotgun resting casually on your shoulder as you strolled over to him.

"No witnesses", you chuckled, kneeling down beside the crate and carefully packing the bottles into your backpack, "besides you shouldn't be the one to kill him."

"And why's that?", he asked, a nagging feeling in the back of his mind warning him not to, yet equally aware and afraid of the answer you'd give.

"Feo fuerte y formal", you replied, trying your best to mimic his thick accent, "although I much preferred your character when he didn't kill the villains. I know, I know, you're not truly that movie character, you're just...you."

The smile that graced your lips was genuine and innocent. He froze, hearing those words again after more than two centuries knocked the air straight out of his lungs.

"I know a place we can lay low until we take on Dom aaand", you wiggled one of the bottles, "we gonna have some fun, partner. We definitely deserve it."

You hummed a song he didn't recognise and your fingers found his hand, your broad smile hidden while you walked in front, tagging him along. No one had ever bothered to look beyond his ghastly appearance and acknowledged him for who was truly hiding behind that scarred noseless face. He was one to shoot anyone who admitted to have been ordered to kill him and definitely anyone who would have dared to take his hand, dragging him behind them like a puppy. To be honest, he definitely had shot a few for far less. And yet here you were, wrapped in the golden glow of the desert sun, a beautiful smile dancing across your lips, doing exactly those two things without any bullet holeson your admittedly attractive body. And to add insult to injury, deep down, locked away in his shrivelled heart, a glimmer of joy and affection shimmered in the darkness. He'd never admit it to you but, in the ways and words of the world before the bombs, he was falling for you and he feared that if you'd truly tempt him, he'd be too weak to resist and he couldn't bear the thought of letting another one into his wounded heart. The wounds of betrayal of the last person he held in there were, after all this time, still as painful as then.

Chapter 3

Feel free to reblog if you liked the story 😊

Tags: @dreamtofus

[maybege]

What If - Part 4

Summary: Mandalore approached and you cannot help but feel like something is about to go terribly wrong.  

Pairing: alpha!Paz Vizsla x omega!fem!Reader

Wordcount: 6.2k | Rating: E (18+ only!)

Warnings: A/B/O dynamics, explicit sexual content, size kink (Paz is big-big), (semi-)public sex, oral sex (m receiving), unprotected sex, creampies, knotting, cockwarming, dirty talk, praise kink, Angst with a capital A, fluffy fluf

As we say in German “Was lange wärht, wird endlich gut” which is what I am using as my excuse for why this took so long. The truth is: depression is a bitch, real life is a bitch and creativity and time for writing are like the same side of two magnets that do not want to even go near each other. Anyway, we made it!!!

There are a few people I gotta thank for this. First and foremost the iconic, the brilliant @mostly-megan who not only suffers through all the random AU ideas I have (and there are a LOT of them) but also brainstorms with me. The Ragnar Scene and also a very (very!) lovely scene towards the end of this part would not exist without her and for that, I am very grateful. Then, of course, the ever-present, ever-lurking genius that is the Boba Tea Anon who is in the Paz trenches right there with me and encourages me in everything I do (even if it is just a – I promise one day I will do a Lord Huron Paz piece!). Also, a very special shout out to Neyo (@galacticgraffiti) who gave the Mando kids their names, suffers through The Horn Knee with me and is always there to cheer me on. And then, of course, all you Paz girlies (gn) who make me feel like a sane person while I ramble about a faceless man who appeared for a total of 23 minutes (if that) and is – canonically – dead anyway. You make sharing my writing worthwhile in the first place and I will be forever grateful for getting to share my writing with you.

And with that – on to the last part (and the new canon for me lol). Please let me know what you thought in a comment or a reblog!

masterlist | crossposted on AO3

There was a certain impatience to him you had not expected at the last meal. When the announcement came that you were approaching Mandalore, Paz – who had spent the dinner between you and Ragnar – had pulled you into his lap, his arms like iron around your body. Ragnar had wandered off to the front with all the other foundlings, expectantly looking up at the clan leaders.

You had turned your face into Paz’s neck, trying to get his scent on you. You could not believe how you had only known this man for a few days – a week, at most! – and yet his scent was the only thing that seemed to calm you down. And it was no different for him.

The alpha’s hand immediately found your scent gland and you shivered as the soft leather brushed over your skin. It did not take long until he pulled his gloves off, settling them into your lap, before resuming his motions.

The nervous energy in the room was palpable but it was practically radiating off him and it inevitably affected you as well. Where you had been excited, if a bit reluctant, a few weeks ago at the prospect of reclaiming Mandalore, now there was only a strange sense of dread in your stomach. One that even the alpha could not dissolve.

“When you wake up tomorrow, some of us will set foot on our homeland for the first time in too many years,” Briggs announced, his serious gaze roaming over the packed hall, “I cannot promise you it will be easy. I cannot promise we will all wake up to the sight of Mandalore. But we will die trying.”

You could see Ragnar looking back at his father who tilted his head. A gesture meant to be reassuring but only resulted in you questioning whether Paz would be one of those dying. You shifted nervously, causing Paz to tighten his hold on your waist.

“Calm down, love,” he rumbled quietly behind you, “It will be alright.”

Forcing yourself to nod, you gripped his large hand tightly, trying to burn into your brain what it was like to touch him,

“Rest well and rest assured that tomorrow will mark the start of a brand new era,” Briggs raised his glass, “And let us toast to our home!”

“To our home!”

Everyone lifted their glasses and the conversations resumed, a constant background roar that reminded you of the countless fates that were tied to the success of this mission. A strange feeling started in your chest, and not the kind that Paz’s presence usually caused.

You shifted again, watching as the crowd dissipated and the foundlings were walked off to bed. Their excited chatter moved down the hall and something cold clenched your heart when you watched Ragnar wave at his father.

Immediately everything quieted down. With everyone returning to their own conversations and the hall being considerably more empty now, Paz did not waste any time. His hands landed on your thighs and you managed a wobbly smile.

 “What is going on in your pretty head?” he asked you, his fingers skimming over your thighs, “You’ve been squirmy all evening.”

“Who says something is on my mind?”, you popped a berry into your mouth, grimacing at the sudden sour taste.

“True,” he laughed, “You might have just spent dinner thinking about when you can finally sit on my cock again.”

“Paz!” you gasped, “you cannot – I mean – what if –“ You glanced around with flushed cheeks, relieved to see that no one had seemed to hear his indecent theory.

He laughed again and the sound made your heart and body melt. “I will never tire of making you flustered,” he murmured, his big hands pulling you closer, “Though I actually would not mind having you cockwarm me tonight, sweet omega,” his fingers brushed the underside of your breasts and you shivered, “I would be lying if I said I could ever get enough of you.”

“I actually had something similar in mind,” you admitted shyly, slipping off his lap and enjoying the way his hands followed you and his body leant into you. As if he wanted to keep touching you, as if he never wanted to let you go. Your heart skipped a beat and you smiled.

“I … would like to try something?”

He leant back, his legs spreading with the movement and your teeth dug into your bottom lip at the sight of the obvious bulge in his pants. “Oh yeah, omega, and what would that be?”

You made a few steps away, making sure that your robe (a dark blue, just like his armour) swished around your form as enticingly as possible. Paz’s head turned to follow your movement from your place in front of him to a chair in a dark alcove, dressed in shadows where you knelt down right in front of it.

The big alapha hummed, rising to his feet, knowing exactly what it was you had in mind. “I think I can get behind that idea.”

From the other sounds that were floating through the cantina, you knew that illicit things were already well underway. Most of them likely more graphic and adventurous than what you had in mind. Still, you felt a little nervous at the prospect of sucking Paz Vizsla’s cock.

But for some reason, this was exactly what you needed. You wanted to bring him pleasure, so much pleasure.

You watched as he pulled off his cape, folding it expertly before motioning for you to stand. He dropped it on the floor, his hand steadying your elbow as you sunk down on the soft fabric. “Don’t want you uncomfortable,” he announced, before sitting down in the chair.

He looked big like this, bigger than usual. And oh so confident it already made your panties wet. His knees spread, the trunks he called thigh caging you in and you watched with bated breath as his fingers undid his codpiece, expertly freeing his cock.

He was already hard and dripping precome, the knot at the base slightly inflated and you squeezed your thighs. It was not like you had never seen his cock before and it certainly was not as if he had not fucked you before. Yet, the sheer size of him and the thought of taking him in your mouth overwhelmed you a little.

Where were you supposed to start?

But when one big rough hand closed around his shaft and Paz started to jerk off right in front of you, you could not help but to simply … dive in.

Opening your mouth as far as it would go, you closed your lips around his tip, one hand struggling to fit around him. The grunt he let out, paired with a twitch of his hips, had you smiling around him.

“Stars above,” he cursed, “Warn a man next time, won’t you, love?”

You looked up at him, teary-eyed, while your tongue licked the underside of him. Or at least the part you could reach. He was heavy in your mouth, heavy and big and he tasted of something that made you want more. Slowly, you moved forward trying to take more of him but soon enough, he bumped something at the back of your throat and you sputtered.

Before you could panic about breathing, Paz had pulled out of you, his large hand cupping your cheek while the other was still wrapped around the base of his cock. “Deep breaths, omega,” he soothed you, his hand leisurely stroking himself, “You are doing so good for, trying to take it all.”

“You’re so big,” you marvelled, wrapping your hands around him, “I want it all, alpha, I – Paz, I really want it all.”

“Want my help?” he asked, “Might have to be a little rougher, though, sweet omega, and I can smell how much that turns you on but I need you to tell me – Are you sure?”

You nodded eagerly, darting your tongue out to lick at him. “I am sure, alpha,” you murmured, pressing a kiss to the tip, “I promise.”

“If it is too much, tap my thigh three times, understood?”

You nodded again, shifting on your makeshift pillowed. Your thighs were already drenched at this point and you wondered whether you could come just from sucking him off. It seemed like you would be able to do a lot of things when it came to Paz.

His grip on your face loosened just the tiniest bit. “Open up for me,” he ordered, pulling your face towards him, “There we fucking go. Gorgeous.”

“I will never tire of this sight,” he groaned, “You struggling to take my size, trying to be so good for me,” he shifted, his hips surging forward and you smiled with pride when you did not gag this time, “Can I go deeper, love? Is that okay?”

With your position between his legs, your jaw wide open around him, you could not really nod. But Paz seemed to recognize the excited twinkle in your eye because you could hear the grin in his voice when he muttered a “Stars, you’re perfect.”

You took great care to keep your breathing even and through your nose, experimentally swirling your tongue around him every time he pulled out of your mouth. His thrusts grew heavier, his hold on you tighter and you swore you were this close to coming just from the sheer sight of his shaft covered in the sheen of you.

It was not long before he came in thick spurts on your tongue. You struggled to swallow it all, your throat working overtime as you did your best to swallow around him. “Good girl,” he praised you, “My good fucking girl.”

Your heart jumped in your chest as you licked him clean, not quite ready to let go of this intimacy.

His hand came to your chin, gently scooping up some of the come that had spilt from your lips. “Here you go,” he offered his coated thumb and you sucked the digit into your mouth without hesitation. You could never get enough of his taste.

“Let’s retire for the night, love,” he suggested, “We have a long day ahead of us.”

*

By the time you got settled in your bunk, you knew it was only a few hours before everything would start. Before you had to say goodbye.

Paz had excused himself, leaving you to get ready for bed alone before he appeared by your side, dressed completely in his armour.

“Are you okay?”

“Said goodbye to Ragnar,” he explained, sitting down on the little cot, hunching his shoulders over so he would not hit his head.

“Oh.”

Somewhere behind the curtains, someone snored.

Paz grunted when he laid down, his giant arm reaching out and pulling your back to his front.

“Is this okay?” you asked quietly, “It’s a tight fit.”

“It’ll be okay,” he murmured, grunting when he pulled the curtain closed, “I will not spend my last night without my calmer.”

“Aren't you uncomfortable?” you asked, your voice small, “With – with the armours and me and all the …”

“I will not spend my last night without my calmer,” he repeated, leaving no room for doubt. It took a bit of shuffling to turn you around but when you finally were facing him, you already felt much better. You tucked your face into his neck, breathing in his scent as he wrapped both arms around you.

Your heart was squeezing so hard in your chest that the emotional pain became physical.

What if this was his last night? What if you would never see him again?

And what if you did? Would it ever be like this again? Would he want to keep you as his calmer (or more?) when Mandalore was finally reclaimed?

Paz shifted, his large hands running over your back until one settled at the back of your neck.

“I got you,” he rumbled, “You’ll be safe, omega, I promise.”

You swallowed away the need to tell him that it wasn’t your safety you were worried about.

 *

The next morning was worse. It barely qualified as morning and you were sure you had not found any sleep. You had just been shifting all night from side to side, desperately burying your nose in his neck to soak up every little bit of his scent that he could give you.

You were not sure if Paz had slept either but when the alarms sounded in the room at the same time, it took him a minute to get up. Everyone was shuffling around the packed room silently, most of them already dressed and armoured. Ready to descend to the surface of Mandalore.

Despair was clawing at your insides. You felt like you were watching something from the outside that you knew would fail. That you knew would destroy everything you held close to your heart.

And yet, you watched helplessly as they lined up, preparing to board the ship that would take them into the atmosphere.

It was silent – eerie – as if everyone knew something big was about to happen. And you couldn’t move from his side. You couldn’t even if you wanted to. You needed to be here with him.

You watched as Paz double-checked his weapons and your mouth quirked up as you remembered how the man had seemed like a weapon on his own the very first time you had seen him. And how true it was, now that you saw guns and rifles packed to every piece of his armour that could carry it.

Your smile fell just as quickly as it had appeared. Would this be the last time you got to see him?

You had been scared a lot of times in your life. Like when your parents had taught you how to swim and you had been convinced you would sink to the bottom of the sea. Or when you had taken a bad fall in one of the hiding places and scuffed your knee. But that childish fear of creatures and heights was nothing compared to the existential dread that settled in your stomach.

It wasn’t fear that something could go wrong it was fear that you knew something was going to go wrong.

And could you really risk this?

“You, uh, you will come back, right?” you whispered, already hating how needy you sounded. But you needed to hear him say it. You needed Paz Vizsla’s words to be the ones to tie you to the hope of a future together.

“Someone already scared for me?” Paz tilted his head and while you knew this was supposed to be a joke, his voice did not sound very light. Like he knew it too. That feeling.

“Well, I mean you have Ragnar,” you shrugged, pulling the cloak closer around you, “And I mean your tribe needs you, you are a great warrior and –“

“Exactly,” he interrupted you gently. You watched as he approached you, his steps heavy and measured and you swallowed. “I am a great warrior,” he repeated with his fingers under your chin, tilting your head up to look at him, “Which is why I will come back to you.”

“But –“

“Listen to me,” he whispered, his hand cupping the side of your neck, scenting you so gently your eyes fluttered close, “I vow to the stars, I will come back to you, love.”

That was the last thing he said to you before he boarded the ship.

*

If somebody asked you what happened during the time you were waiting, you would not be able to tell them. As soon as Paz embarked on the with the scouting group, it felt like time stood still. You barely knew what you were doing. You were pacing the entire length of the ship it seemed, Ragnar keeping you company for a few of those pacing trips before he distracted himself by playing with the other foundlings.

You tried to approach your feelings rationally. You had spent a lot of your time these past few days in close proximity with Paz. He was an alpha, you were an omega, obviously there were some biological components that could have contributed to your feelings for him.

But that was exactly it. Your feelings …

At the thought of Paz not coming back, it felt like your heart ripped into two. You could not fathom a world without him in it and, more importantly perhaps, you could not fathom your life without him in it. You wanted him to come back and when all the tribes settled in their parts of Mandalore, you wanted to be as close to him as now. You wanted to spend your evening with him and Ragnar and you wanted to know what his days were like, what his role was in his clan.

Whether he wanted to keep you in his life as well.

Waiting was pure torture. Communications were cut and all that remained was the cold silence of the ship. You avoided the cockpit and strategy meetings, Briggs (thankfully) seemed to understand your reluctance and did not press you on the matter. Until Axe Woves came to warn the ship of the Imperial that had settled on the planet and the fight that had broken loose.

That was the meeting you had insisted on attending, hoping that – in whatever capacity – the stoic alpha might drop some comments about the people on the surface.

“Is,” you swallowed, “Is he well?”

The beskar-clad man, much to your frustration, said nothing at all.

Which was not very helpful.

The fight continued and troops were dispatched and you stayed, keeping the foundlings safe and quiet. In fitful dreams, you heard yourself confessing your love to him just before he disappeared never to return again. You woke up with cold sweats until you crawled into his bunk, pressing your nose into his pillow and willing yourself to think of a future in which he came back to you unharmed.

Sometimes, you could hear Sluice and Chants converse about what to do if it all failed. Whether to settle back in Nevarro was another possibility or if the tribes should stick together to find a new home.

All you could think was that you would not leave Paz on this planet.

You could not leave him.

It was morning when the announcement came. You had buried yourself in his cot, his sheets pressed to your nose as you took trembling breaths when the PA system stuttered to life, the mechanical voice echoing through the empty hallways.

You had retaken Mandalore. The air was breathable and you could safely land on the surface to meet the victorious troops.

The joy and excitement that spread through your entire body could not be described. Nothing could happen to wipe the smile off your face as you frantically searched for the one good dress you wanted to wear when you saw Paz again. You wanted to please him and kiss him and tell him you loved him. And maybe, if you were very lucky, he loved you too.

Stars, how you hoped he would.

But that elation stopped short when you set foot onto Mandalore. You could not even look at the surrounding landscapes, the fallen home of your ancestors – when you spotted the group but no Paz. A quick glance around did not reveal him either and suddenly the feeling of dread was back again.

Briggs was standing there too, and you knew the man long enough that when you saw his eyes getting glassy at your sight, he did not need to say anything anymore for the tears to fall.

This was it then.

You always wondered what it would feel like to live with a broken heart. Now you knew.

The pain in your heart was unbearable and you suddenly wished that you had never left the bunk this morning. That you were still curled up in his scent and his blankets without the knowledge that the alpha you wanted to spend your life with was dead.

“Where is my buir?” Ragnar asked somewhere behind you and you could hear it in his voice. How he tried to sound strong but he was just a child. A child without his father.

He made his way to the front and stopped by your side. You put your hands on his shoulder.

“I am sure he will be fine,” you assured him, not believing your own words, “He – he must have … another mission somewhere, right?” you looked to Axe Woves who avoided your gaze, “Right?”

Ragnar grabbed your hand. “Bu said if he is late, I need to distract you.”

“What? Why?”

“Because we're family,” he said it so effortlessly, “and because I know he will come back but you might worry and you shouldn’t worry.”

You were not sure what happened first: the stopping of your heart or the break in your breath. Paz told him you were his family? Ragnar considered you … his family?

“Do you wanna play a board game?” the boy asked and the breath rushed back into your lungs, “Bu taught me a few games for when I wait for him to come back.”

“He did?” you asked, your voice faint as you followed him back to where someone had set up a small open-air cantina at the ramp of the ship. You ignored the looks Briggs and Chants gave you. Ignored the way that Bo Katan bowed her head as if to pay respect to you as if you had something to mourn.

Not now, you told yourself as your heart cracked in your chest. Maybe tomorrow you could bury yourself in Paz’s bunk, breathing in his scent until there was nothing left but your own grief.

Tomorrow, you promised yourself, Tomorrow I will know he is dead.

*

The sun was setting over the mountains and Ragnar made no sign of stopping the game anytime soon. He had patiently explained the elaborate card game to you before dealing the cards. And then he had continued to play with you the entire day. Sometimes, people joined you for a round or two. The first had been Din Djarin – the man with the green baby. He had not said anything but you could feel the sadness coming off him in waves.

Then there had been The Armourer who had stayed for only one round, occasionally speaking to Ragnar about his helmet ceremony (the first having been interrupted only a few weeks prior). She was followed by Sluice, Bo Katan and finally, Briggs.

“Mind if I join?” the older man had asked, only sitting down when you nodded.

“Not at all,” Ragnar spoke up, relieving you of the to find the energy, “Do you know the rules?”

Briggs had left after two rounds, his warm hand on your shoulder the only indication of what he had come here to say. My condolences for your loss.

The tears had burned hot in your eyes but you forced yourself to keep playing. Ragnar won most rounds and the one he did not, you were fairly sure he lost on purpose. “No worries,” he assured you with childish wisdom, “Sometimes it takes a little longer to get the rules.”

“That is okay,” you forced yourself to smile, “How about we take a break for some food?”

“Good idea!” the boy jumped up, “I will get some of the berries and you stay here and watch the cards!”

Before you could protest, he had raced to the small buffet table.

You both welcomed and feared the moment of solitude this afforded you. It allowed you to take a deep breath, to let your shoulders and your guard fall. Maybe even a few tears if you were quick about it. You did not want Ragner to see you like this. He seemed to be determined that his father was alive and well – that he would return – that you could not bear to be the one to break his heart.

“Bu!” Ragnar shouted and you whipped around immediately. It took you a moment to find Ragnar but when you did, he had his arms wrapped around the legs of a large man. A man dressed in dark blue armour.

 “Paz,” you sighed, feeling tons lighter. Ragnar threw himself at his father who caught him though you did not fail to notice the way his legs almost buckled.

Stars he was hurt.

A new wave of panic washed over you and you did not realise you had stood up until the stoll toppled behind you. Several pairs of eyes were on you but you only cared about one.

Paz set Ragnar down and whispered something to him. You watched as the boy nodded, skipping off to Din and the Armourer. And then Paz walked towards you. Though walk seemed too weak a word for the way his heavy steps came closer and closer, his looming figure soon right in front of you.

Paz was right in front of you.

“You,” he growled, taking your hand without slowing his stride, “Come with me.”

“Paz, what happened?” you asked, trying to look him over, “Are you hurt? Did – Were those Imperials we spotted on the radar? Axe Woves and Briggs and – oh stars, we need to get you checked out and wait – are you bleeding? Where does it hurt maybe I can –“

A door swished open and you glanced around in confusion. This was not the infirmary. This was not even a proper room if the cleaning supplies on the shelves were anything to go by.

“Paz, you need – oh!” your hands gripped his shoulders tightly when he lifted you onto a surface. Was it a table? A counter? Stars, you could not bring yourself to care. Not when he was standing in front of you, panting like he had the fight of his life behind him.

Which he probably did.

Your heart clenched again, from fear or joy you could not tell.

His large hand fiddled with your dress and with a rip, your entire front piece was hanging off you in tatters.

“Alpha,” you cried, moving your hands from his shoulders to his chest, “Alpha, are you all right? I was so worried.”

The big man stepped between your open legs and you took a deep breath. The smell of adrenaline burned your nose but you could not help but notice the arousal that was in the air as well. He was angry and determined and the way he did not even look at his hands when he tugged on his belt made you glad you were already sitting down.

“Keep calling me that and I will be,” he grunted, opening the snaps of his armour and finally his fly.

Your eyes were fixated on his hand around his cock. “Pull down your dress,” he instructed instead, “I want to see your tits.”

You hurried to do so, almost ripping the fabric entirely in the process but you could not care less. Not when you had your dream of an alpha standing between your open legs, getting ready to fuck you. The ruined fabric pooled around your hips and the cool air made your nipple pebble. But then Paz was right there, the bulk of his body between yours and you could feel his cock against the inside of your thigh.

He pushed the tip of his cock against your folds, slowly circling your clit and you whimpered. Why did everything he did feel so good? “Ready?” he asked, spreading your wetness around and you found yourself wishing that you could see. That you could see how big he was against you, how his hand gripped himself, how his brows might furrow in determination and the set of his lips as he pushed inside you.

But you could not have everything in life. And for this moment, the feeling of his cock stretching your walls was enough. He was here, he was alive and he made you feel so stars forsaken good.

“Fuck,” you sighed, “Paz …”

“That’s good, huh?” he grumbled, slowly pulling out before pushing back in. You could feel your walls ease around him, your juices covering his shaft and the gland on your neck pulsed with the need to have him scent you.

He remained still for a few moments and you took a deep breath, breathing him in again and trying to get yourself to realize that he was alive. Your alpha was alive.

Paz started to move, then, and slowly pushed inside you again before building up a steady rhythm that had him deep, deep inside you. And all you could think, between bouts of pleasure, was that he was alive. Paz was alive.

“Fuck,” you whispered, your hand shaking as you gripped the edge of the table, overcome with emotion, “A-alpha, I was so scared. “

A particularly hard thrust had your hands fly around his neck. “I was protecting you,” he replied, his voice shaking, “You were never in any danger, omega, I would not allow it.”

“I wasn’t scared for me, you di’kut,” you cursed as you hastily wiped away the tears streaming down your face, “I was scared for you!”

Paz grunted at your admission, pushing inside you again and pulling you as close as he could with the armour in the way. “And I was scared of never seeing you again,” he confessed into the darkness between your faces, “That I was breaking my promise to you.”

“Wh-What,” you gasped, feeling his cock grow inside you, “Alpha, what is happening?”

“Oh fuck,” he grunted, “Sorry, ‘mega, sorry, I didn't mean to – oh shit, love, you gotta stop squeezing me.”

Easier said than done. In fact, it seemed impossible. Because as soon as you realized that it was his knot swelling inside of you, all you could think about was what it would be like to be knotted by him. Which turned you on beyond belief.

The mental image of him filling you up to the brim, the giant size of him staying inside you, made your walls flutter and your high approach so much faster. Paz’s movements did not stop and you could feel the ring at his base growing and growing, catching on your entrance with every thrust and making you yearn to keep him inside.

“Alpha, will you – Can you – oh!” he hit that spot inside you again that made your blood sing and you fell back against the wall, completely at his mercy.

And then the light went out.

Your body tensed with fright and you squeaked, thinking something had gone horribly wrong. But Paz did not seem deterred and you faintly remembered that the light switch was somewhere on his side of the room.

There was a sound you could not pinpoint, followed by a loud clatter and then his hand was at the back of your neck, pulling you to him and you squirmed at how he folded you in half, his cock still nestled deep inside you and then he was … kissing you.

You gasped, the feeling of his lips familiar against yours and everything you had dreamed of.

“Fuck it feels good to fill you up,” he murmured, the praise making your cheeks warm.

Your legs were still trembling around his hips and you tightened your hold around his neck. Your nose bumped against his scent gland. Add that to the feeling of his smile against your shoulder and even retaking Mandalore could never rival the feeling of being scented by him.

“That good, huh?” he teased you, his lips moving against your skin.

He had some stubble that tickled your sensitive skin and you gasped, the sensation opening you up even more.

And then he pushed inside you one last time as you came around him. The knot at his base swelled with no signs of stopping, locking you together as he filled you up. You shivered at the feeling of him twitching inside you, spurts of come filling you up in a way you had never experienced before, increasing the pressure inside you that made your walls clench. He continued to rut against you, causing your clit to rub against his pelvis again and again, prolonging your peak.

After what felt like an eternity, you came down from your high, relishing in the feeling of him still pulsing inside of you. It was strange, something you had never experienced before, but the closeness made you sigh contentedly against his lips.

Paz was quiet save for a few grunts, his hands grabbing your hips, keeping you as close as possible.

“I’ve never been knotted before,” you admitted between kisses.

“Really?” Paz asked, his mouth pausing on yours, “How does it feel?”

“It feels kinda nice, alpha,” you whispered, pulling his face closer to yours again.

Paz did not say anything for a moment, his laboured breath loud in the small room. Then his hands cupped your face and you could feel his eyes on you and you wondered if he was able to see you despite the darkness. Probably not, after all, it was his visor that usually enabled him to do so. But he made you feel seen with how his thumbs brushed over the apples of your cheeks, still wet with tear tracks or how his lips softly landed on yours.

“I don’t think I told you yet,” he said against your mouth, “But you are beautiful. To me, you are the – the most stunning omega I have ever seen. When I was down there – when I … I dreamt of what it would be like to see you with my own eyes.”

A flutter started in your chest. An awful flutter of hope that had you thinking of futures beyond the next few days. He could not mean what you thought he meant, right?

“But you helmet –“ you started, trying to rationalize away the hope in your voice.

But Paz had other plans. “I want to court you,” he said, sounding as determined as ever, “Stars, I want to properly court you, love, whatever that entails for your clan but I asked Briggs and –“

“What?”

“I wanted to make sure that I did everything right,” he explained, his hand warm on your back, “So I asked him about any customs I might have to know, that last night before we left and – and for a second there it looked like I would never get to ask you. But I can, love, I can ask you now. Will you let me court you, ‘mega? Will you let me spend the rest of my life with you and Ragnar and all the other foundlings the stars let us have?”

“You – you want children, too?” you asked, feeling like the breath was stolen out of your lungs, “M-more than Rganar, I mean?”

You could feel his smile against your neck, the tip of his nose buried in the valley beneath your ear. “Course I do,” he confirmed, “Ragnar is the biggest gift of my life, I won't say no to that joy again.”

A laugh bubbled up in your chest and you could feel your walls clench around him. Paz moaned, his cock twitching inside you. “Is that a yes, then?” he asked carefully, his hand wandering up to cup the back of your neck. He moved away from you,

“Yes,” you breathed out with the biggest smile on your face, “Yes, Paz.”

The scent that surrounded you made you euphoric and you realized that it had been Paz all along. That sweet scent that made your heart beat faster and a smile appear on your lips? Paz fucking Vizsla.

“Open your eyes, mesh’la,” he asked you quietly, his breath warm on your face, “Look at me, sweetheart.”

And you did. Your eyes blinked open and it took you both an eternity and a second to get your eyes used to the seemingly blinding light of the storage room. But then your eyes met his and you saw Paz Vizsla for the first time.

He had dark eyes, just like you had daydreamed, and his hair looked just as soft as it had always felt. It was matted to his forehead in places and he looked … exhausted, like he had not slept in days. There were bruises on his cheekbones and you could see some dried blood and dirt on his jaw. But all of that was overshadowed by the brightest, biggest grin on his face.

It made the corners of his eyes crinkle and you could not help but smile back, absolutely in awe of the man in front of you. What were you supposed to say the first time you saw the face of the man you had fallen hopelessly in love with?

“You are handsome,” is what you settled on finally, carefully brushing your fingertip over his crooked nose.

He huffed out a laugh, his eyes twinkling with mirth. “Thank you, my love,” he rumbled and your heart skipped a beat at him calling you his. Because you were, truly, whether you had realised it before or not, his.

“I love you,” you blurted out, feeling oddly shy.

“I love you too,” he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to your lips, “There is no version of this life in which I do not love you.”

“You will have to tell me about your scars,” you whispered, your eyes roaming over his face, catching on one that cut through his eyebrow, “Every single one.”

“I will,” he promised, kissing you again, “We have a lifetime for it.”

[vidavalor]

So I'm on a bit of a roll from just having finished some writing (probably post in the next day or two), so have some random thoughts!

Legit can't remember whether or not your linguistic analysis of Bildad the Shuhite touched on 'cobbler' as Cockney rhyming slang for either testicles (as in 'kick in the...') or nonsense (as in 'load of old cobblers') -- the latter meaning especially feels kind of appropriate!

What kind of 'madeleine memories' might an amnesiac Aziraphale get from a roast beef sandwich???

Do you think actual madeleines are likely to appear on screen in some capacity in S3?

Tiramisu has coffee, chocolate and alcohol, and thus feels like a VERY Ineffable-Husbands-speak dessert :D

Was poking around the Royal Albert Hall website for research purposes and found this: https://www.royalalberthall.com/tickets/tours-and-exhibitions/afternoon-tea/ Not quite as hyper-fancy as the Ritz, perhaps, but lots of little bits of Ineffable-speak meaningfulness in the food as well as being potentially a lovely little engagement celebration date???

Ehehehe

Hi, luv. Looking forward to reading your new writing! So many goodies to ponder here! 😍I actually have some madeleines today. And good coffee. It's raining here and ah, this is all a heavenly combination. 😊 Throwing this under a cut because your mention of tiramisu led me to write about two, related words in Ineffable Husbands Speak that I've noticed repeated: might and found...

We'll do the sea ties to insinuate while we're at it... 🐟

1- Cobbler: I need to do a whole thing on cobbler actually and will add & credit the findings you shared to you. I mainly just wanted to quickly make a post about how cobbler connects to sherry but there's actually a whole web of overlapping words they're using. It also ties to the root kob-- which quite literally means "good omens." 😊 I'll put a longer post on cobbler on the list.

2- Roast beef sandwich madeleine memories?:

*Bildad voice* You tell me... 😉

3- Madeleines on screen in S3?: I'm not expecting it but it would be fun. Would actually also go with the theme of the literal-and-the-figurative, especially with the food, so I guess it might actually be more likely than some other things. I mainly just want Aziraphale to eat something because he had a sherry and a couple of sips of tea in the present in S2 and that's why everything went sideways, really. That angel needs a sandwich in the worst way and in both ways that you can read that sentence.

4- Tiramisu: Yes. It actually also has one of my favorite meanings for any food, as it means a "pick-me-up" in Italian, which is very cute, no? It is very Ineffable Husbands-y for the reasons you mentioned and now you've got me going on about a word that we haven't heard them say lol but I can connect it to two words that they have said, so...

Tiramisu (originally from "tireme su") is thought to have been invented by the owner of a brothel in Treviso sometime around 1800. This innovative Mrs. Sandwich would offer it to clients as an aphrodisiac or as an after-treat and it was basically considered the Viagra of the 1800s in Italy. Coffee, alcohol, chocolate, as you pointed out... food + seamstressing = no way this isn't an Ineffable Husbands Speak thing.

It is perishable, as we know, and it was invented in a time before mainstream refrigeration so it originally wasn't as available outside of bigger cities, which is why it was often offered at the end of a client session as well, before the clients were sent home-- yeah, medicinal tiramisu was a thing. 😲 The actual origins of the dessert apparently weren't really discussed publicly until sometime around the 1980s as, once it became easier to keep things chilled, generations of Italian ladies were making tiramisu constantly and it got a bit awkward to acknowledge that all these adorable old nonnas for generations were passing down how to make this sexy dessert that was created in the first place by a lady bordello owner for, um, reasons...

But tiramisu would, by The Ineffable Husbands' wordplay rules, mix the origins and meanings of the word with its phonetic soundings in English and, as we've seen, French... so, it would also be spoken as: "tier a me sous."

A tier is an arrangement of things in an order and, also, in keeping with our amusing seamstressing origins of the dessert, rows of overlapping trim on a dress. Sous (the last s is silent) means under and/or below in French. In that way, expressing a desire for some tiramisu is expressing a desire for a tier in which you are sous your partner.

[Sidebar but this is reminding me that the sous vide style of cooking translates literally from French as "under/below the vacuum" and... I feel like Crowley does not have the willpower to have never not connected this to Mr. Brown of Brown's World of Carpets in some way 😂... *doesn't look up from his book* "Oh, the Whickber Street Monthly Whatzit's getting takeaway? Gonna get the sous vide chicken this time, angel?"]

Tiramisu means a "pick me up"-- a mood-booster-- but "pick me up" is also obviously both tongue-in-cheek expression of wanting to be seduced and a request to be quite literally picked up, as in lifted off the floor... which is how you know that tiramisu is likely a dessert that Crowley thinks is the tops.

Since we're taking apart a word not in the series, I'll give you two others that tie to it that on their little vocab list: might and found.

There are at least two scenes that I've noticed so far where one of them is using the word might as innuendo in reference to Aziraphale. Might falls into the category of words like wily, thwart, smitten, etc..-- words that are amusing in how they have wildly different, often contradicting, definitions, and where at least one definition is a bit suggestive, allowing them to use it around angels or demons or in public with one definition on the surface and the flirtier one underneath.

On the one hand, might is the past tense of may and involves gentle suggestions or polite requests asking permission. On the other hand, the word might also has a real oomph when used in its other definition, which is to express the strength and power of a nation, a natural force, or a person.

It's basically Aziraphale in a word-- unfailingly polite and gentle on one level and full of raw strength on another.

The other word is found, which can be, uh, found lol, in the Crowley-penned Aziraphale entry in 'Demon's Guide to Angelic Beings...'. The sentence is actually constructed around the inclusion of 'found' and what makes that extra-amusing is that it suggests Crowley was eager to get the word in there, likely because of its nautical definition.

In seafaring terms, for a ship to be described as found is a very positive thing and, to be defined as such, it must meet both of two requirements:

The ship must be both well-equipped (*cough*) and, equally important, fully stocked.

A person who is stocked or stocky is, as we know, one who is broader, more shoulders and chest than height, and of a fuller and thicker build in thighs and arms. Someone like Aziraphale, who is physically strong and brawny and who would not have much difficulty picking up what would be being thrown down if Crowley were to order a tiramisu for dessert, if ya get mah drift...

Insinuate: To subtly introduce slowly into hearts and minds; to maneuver someone or something into a desired position; to thrust in, push in, or wind one's way into; to introduce with torturous slowness; and, of course, the best one: to hint at obliquely (ha!)

The sinu part of the word comes from sinus, a word that I've *achoo* been cursing all damn week because the gorgeous trees and plants are trying to kill me but which is Latin for all sorts of things a lot more pleasant than 'the part of the head that is often pounding during Spring.'

English-language writers of the dreamy sort-- the poets who call rainstorms "tempests", like a certain red-headed demon we know-- would also use sinus back in the day to describe a gulf, a bay, or "the arm of the sea", as well as any hole or cavity in the Earth.

Insinuate = In sinu ate. In the sea, eating. 😂

Why ever [eve/"temptation"/"sin"] would [wood] Aziraphale insinuate that Crowley might [mmm strong] possibly [which shares roots with potent] want [to want; also contains ant, the humans in the insect analogy] something [so/sew, me, thin; opposite of might]? = the actual dessert isn't invented yet in this scene in 1601 but seems like Crowley wants to get tiramisu'd something fierce...

5- Royal Albert Hall: Love this idea. It reminds me of how The British Museum also has an afternoon tea but how they've met in the cafe and how they've probably both wanted to get tea there. While I was on the Royal Albert Hall website, I was laughing over the copy on the menu for the box service, especially the *very* rare modern use of rhubarb in this way:

Choose from a wide range of canapés, sandwiches and sharing plates, finishing your meal with sweet treats. All food is prepared with the finest seasonal ingredients and is always presented with signature rhubarb style.

Aziraphale, back away from the copywriters... 😂

Cheers as always for the amusing stuff to think about @jotun-philosopher 💕

Original posts regarding fish, madeleines and memory, for anyone who might read this and is confuzzled and wondering wtf we're on about:

[the-witchs-cafe]

Welp, we've heard the news- Magia Record's going to end its service at around the 31st of July.

I may have never been able to join in on the fun - what, with an outdated phone and the western servers having long been closed ever since I got a new one -, but I am aware that this spinoff means a lot to y'all; it's a shame letting it go after so long, but such is the reality of live-service games. :'(

Hopefully, we might get someone able to nab its resources and create some sort of fanmade revival- but, knowing the fate of all these Club Penguin revivals before it, I doubt it would bode well when we bring in copyright laws unto the table. I'd be really disappointed if its fate is to become lost media, much like Madoka Mobage and PMMM Online, but if that happens- it is what it is. It's a tragic day for us all-

but, until that time comes, we must cherish these remaining hours; make them last for as long as they could, so that we may look back at them with content smiles and a feeling of satisfaction.

Farewell, Iroha Tamaki and your ragtag group of friends.

GG, my fellow Meguca fans.